


MASE.

by NoShitSherlock



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (For a lot of this), Airplane Sex, Amsterdam, Boston, Bottom Louis, Bullied Harry, Bullying, CONSIDERABLY CHILD ABUSE, College Student Louis, Crime fic, Criminal Harry, Criminal Louis (Eventually), Cuddling, Dark Harry, Drugs, First Time (Up The Ass), Guns, Gunshot, Harry Calls Louis Blue, Harry's Macedonian, IT DOES DIE DOWN BUT PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF THAT MAKES YOU ANY BIT UNCOMFORTABLE!, Kid Fic, Kissing, LOUIS SWEARS A LOT AT HIS KID, Louis is a prick at the start, Louis-centric, M/M, Mass Slaughter, Mile High Club, Mob Boss Harry, Murder, OUT OF FRUSTRATION AND BECAUSE HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO BE A PARENT YET, On the Run, Piercings, Pilot Liam, Prostitution, Punk Harry, Single Parent Louis, Straight Not So Straight Louis, Tattoos, Top Harry, Verbal Abuse, Yellowknife (Canada), boat party, college student Harry, greenland, monnickendam, secretive harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-04 22:52:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 54,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoShitSherlock/pseuds/NoShitSherlock
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is the father to a two year old he doesn't want. Mason's mother has disappeared into thin air and a witty comment from Louis' best friend Niall has left Mason calling Louis, "mama," only to call Harry, "daddy," instead.Harry Styles is the heavily tattooed student with piercings at Trinity College in Boston. Bullied for his looks, he is offered a change in dorm room. He meets Louis, who isn't psyched about sharing his and his son's dorm room with him.Since Mason, Louis hasn't been with anyone nor has he been attached to anyone and definitely not a man. He isn't gay. However, a high end boat party in the Netherlands reveals that Louis isn't just attached to his secretive roommate.He is attached to a criminal, and so is his son.





	1. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, aloha, hola, welcome (back if you're a regular reader of mine) <3
> 
> This I've been working on for quite a while. I was never planning to post it until I had finished writing the whole thing but after a recent wake up call, I decided to just go for it even though I only have 13 chapters so far.
> 
> Warnings: There is graphic scenes of violence, there is a lot of shooting and there is also detailed sex scenes. Louis tends to swear at his child a lot, CONSIDERABLY VERBAL CHILD ABUSE AS MENTIONED IN THE TAGS, but it does die down throughout the fic. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SKIP TO THE NEXT PART OF THIS AND READ MY EXPLANATION ON LOUIS' BACKGROUND AND WHY HE ACTS THE WAY HE DOES (IT IS MAINLY OUT OF FRUSTRATION, NOT BECAUSE HE HATES HIS KID OR WANTS TO BE CRUEL!!!) I will come back to add more warnings if I have forgotten any.
> 
> PLEASE AS A LAST WARNING, IF ANY OF THE TAGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DON'T READ.
> 
> Some additional info: 
> 
> ~ Harry is Macedonian solely to give more of a background to his character, translating has been a bitch though.  
> ~ Mason is blonde due to inheriting it from his mum.  
> ~ Harry is basically littered with tattoos and has some piercings.  
> ~ Louis' dad works at his college and deals with the dorm rooms.  
> ~ Yes, Louis does keep Mason at college with him and gets his dad to look after him while he's in class.  
> ~ Louis' family lives in Amsterdam but he lives in Boston 
> 
> I'll come back to add any more quick facts.
> 
> Without further ado, this is MASE.
> 
> (I don't know why I feel the need to caps half my works titles)...

  

**"You committed, I'm your crime."**

**~ Copycat, Billie Eilish**

 

"Mase, toys, now."

"Mama, s'eepy," the two year old latches his mouth onto the corner of an alphabet block. "No tidy."

Louis looks up from the array of papers on his desk, highlighter clasped in his hand. He faces his son and grits his teeth, patience running thin. "Clean the fucking mess."

"Mama," the little child whines around the toy, spit trickling onto his small fingers. "Milk."

The two year old goes ignored as Louis draws a yellow streak across his page, knee bouncing in building anger. He picks up an inky pen, jots down a few notes in his notebook and barely realises the ink seeping through onto the next page when his son grips onto his leg whining again. He looks down at the wide eyed boy.

"Shut up and put your toys away before I put you to bed without a bottle."

"Mama," Mason starts to tear up, clawing at Louis' leg and mouthing at his jeans. The slobber soaks a circle onto the fabric and Louis draws him up fast enough to cause a whiplash, planting him on his knee.

"Don't 'mama' me," Louis pulls a hairband off his wrist, tying up the hairs on Mason's head long enough to be captured. He unclips the metal of the little boy's dungaree, standing him on his lap to remove the clothing item, then tosses it to the far corner of the dorm room where a wash basket sits. "Toys, 'jamas, then milk, okay?"

Mason shakes his head, face contorting up into a little angry glare. "'Jamas, milk."

"No, you listen here, you little brat," Louis seethes. "You're going to pick those fucking toys up, change into your pyjamas and then you'll get your fucking milk. Understood?"

The boy tilts his head, only certain words in the sentence making sense. Then he starts to wail and Louis frustratingly puts him back on the floor, picking up his highlighter again. Mason clutches at the rip of Louis' jeans, tugging and scratching up his leg, throwing a tantrum. Louis can't bare more than a minute of it, slams the highlighter down on the desk and stands up, picking up the little child.

"I've fucking had it with you."

He kicks the alphabet blocks to the side, dumps Mason on their bed and throws the nearest pair of pyjamas on him that has been folded on the spare bed. It's a onesie, white and patterned with yellow ducks with a glue stain that doesn't wash off. Louis slips on a pair of woolly socks onto Mason's feet, grabs a clean bottle off the windowsill and slips a pair of slippers onto his own feet. He slings the child over his shoulder, leaves the dorm room and doesn't put him down until they're in the dining hall.

"Mama, mama, mama," the little boy follows like a puppy as Louis greets one of the cooks cleaning up in the kitchen - Sandy.

"Out of milk already?"

Louis nods his head and sighs. "The little fucker drinks it like it's free alcohol."

Sandy gives the student a look of disapproval at his use of profanity but nevertheless ruffles his hair and gestures to the fridge. "Help yourself."

"Ta, San."

Louis pulls out a carton of milk from the fridge, filling up Mason's bottle and placing it in the microwave. When Mason starts to mouth at his leg again, he hauls the boy up and places him on his hip.

"Mama."

"Stop calling me that," Louis grunts.

"Mama," Mason starts to tangle his fingers in Louis' hair, tugging at his strands painfully.

"Fucking asshole!" Louis swats Mason's hand away from his hair, the child tearing up in return. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he rolls his eyes just as the microwave starts to beep. He takes out the bottle and screws on the lid, half shoving the rubber nub into Mason's mouth. "Now shut up, drink and go to sleep so I can have a chance at passing Psych."

As Louis grabs the carton of milk on his way out, muttering a farewell to Sandy, Mason droops his head into Louis' neck, mouthing at the bottle and closing his little eyes. The boy is half asleep when Louis arrives back at his dorm, the bottle dropping down his back, and Louis curses as he crouches down to pick it up, struggling with the milk carton and Mason in his hands. He elbows the door handle down and barges into their dorm room, only to be met with the sight of a heavily tattooed lad with numerous piercings and his own father deep in a conversation with him.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, shifting Mason up when he starts to slip in his hold. He catches sight of the couple of boxes stacked in the middle of the room that weren't there before and gives a questioning glace. "What's going on?"

His dad looks up at him, sighs tiredly and loosens his tie. "There's been an issue in the dorms."

Louis steps into the room, shuts the door and softly bounces Mason as he questions, "what does that have to do with me?"

His father gives him an apologetic look, slips out a small wrapped present from his suit and places it on Louis' desk. "This is your new dorm mate," he gestures to the tattooed lad, "and an apology gift from me."

"What now?" Louis' mouth drops. "Dad, what?"

"I said-"

"I know what the fuck you said!" Louis yells, Mason jolting out of his half asleep state and whimpering.

"Mama-"

"Be quiet!" He puts the boy on the floor along with the milk carton and bottle, only for Mason to latch onto his leg and start his whining again. Louis looks up at his dad, ready to start raging. "What do you mean _dorm mate_?"

His dad scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing between his son and the green eyed lad who stands, corners of his mouth tilted up into a small smirk. "I mean, your dorm room is the only dorm room away from the rest, the most secluded and right next to my office. Harry," he slaps a hand down on the tattooed student's shoulder, "is not allowed anywhere near those dorm rooms."

Louis taps his free foot on the floor, biting back every urge to shout a string of profanities towards his son latched onto his leg irritatingly. "This is me and my son's dorm room. I'm not sharing."

"I wasn't asking," his dad straightens up his posture. "I am truly sorry, Louis, but this is the arrangement. You have the largest dorm room, space isn't an issue. Don't complain."

"What the actual fuck, dad?" Louis scoffs, batting away Mason's hands. "The whole reason you assigned me this dorm room without a dorm mate was so that I could raise my bloody kid and attend college without someone hovering around!"

"Mama-"

"What the fuck do you want?!"

"S'eep-" the little boy is cut off as Louis grabs him and tugs him up, stomping over to their bed and tucking him under the sheets angrily. He spins on his heels, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

"Dad, get out before I blow my top off. We'll speak tomorrow. I have a psychology exam soon I need to study for."

His dad eyes him wearily and starts to leave, giving one last glance at his son before shutting the room door shut. Louis is left with the green eyed student, tall, hair tied in a bun, tattooed and intimidating. Louis turns around, goes to his desk and proceeds to study. He's peeling off a post-it note when the tattooed lad first speaks.

"It is rude not to introduce you and your son to me."

Louis raises his eyebrows, a look of disbelief on his face as he spins on his swivel chair to face the student. He tilts his head. "Excuse me? You're going to be gone by tomorrow morning, I don't think introductions are necessary."

Harry doesn't respond, only turns around to unstack the stacks of clothing on the spare bed pile by pile, dropping them to the floor. The thudding causes Mason to stir and peak his head out from under the covers, eyeing the stranger cautiously. "Mama? Mama, mama, mama-"

"For God's sake, Mase. What?"

Mason points at Harry, eyes wide, cerulean and curious. "Mama?"

"It's no one. Go to sleep," Louis orders, intently watching the issue before him carelessly toss their clothes to the floor, right up until the bed is empty and Harry is flopping down on it.

"S'eep, you," Mason stretches his arms out making grabby hands towards Louis. "Mama, s'eep."

Louis groans in his throat, both his son and Harry - who watches his every movement patiently - irritating the living grits out of him. "Mason, go the fuck to sleep before I lose my bloody mind."

"Why do you swear so carelessly around your child?"

The blue eyed lad diverts his attention to Harry, feeling the need to violently explode but it being too late in the evening to do so. He clenches his fists and jaw, twirls the swivel chair back around and attempts to continue his Psych prep.

"You are very dismissive. I do not like it," Harry sits up, slotting a finger in his hairband and pulling it out of his hair with a mere tug.

"I don't care what you like."

"You ought to do if I am going to be around your child," he bluntly states, clasping his fingers together. "For what it is worth, I do not like to smoke weed to pass time. I prefer to snack on candy."

"Ah, so you have a sweet tooth? That's not good, you may steal my son from me," Louis half-heartedly jokes, eyes still focused on his study notes.

"He has very sweet cheeks, undeniably."

Louis twiddles with a strand of his hair and rests back in his chair, a yawn escaping past his lips. He rubs his eyes with the highlighter still in his hand, the tip flicking his cheek and staining it yellow. He curses and licks the pad of his thumb, wiping away at the ink stain.

"Mama," Mason tries again, voice a little above a whisper, a whine in his throat.

"Clingy bitch," Louis mutters under his breath and gives up, filing the papers on his desk away, storing his pens in its pot and gets up. He kicks off his slippers, goes over to his clothes piled on the floor beside Harry's feet and picks out a large tee. Up this close, Louis can smell the Tom Ford cologne on the tattooed student. "Rich," he sniffs.

"Very," Harry chuckles. "My dad is the CEO of a classified company."

Louis raises an eyebrow. "You know, the obscurity does not make me any comfortable with you being around my child."

"I do apologise," Harry gives a limp smile, earnest and sweet.

_"Mama..."_

"Good heavens," Louis tosses the tee over his shoulder, picking himself up and disappearing into the bathroom.

When he comes back out, he's changed and has a mouth full of foamy toothpaste as he brushes his teeth. Mason, who refuses to go to sleep without Louis, is picked up by one arm and taken into the bathroom to brush his teeth too. Mason is sat on the sink side having his face wiped when he can't hold out anymore, blowing out like a candle light. He doesn't move an inch as Louis picks him up or at the flip of the light switch.

Louis' a foot back into the dorm room when he halts in his step at the sight of Harry picking up the alphabet blocks, putting the milk carton in the mini fridge, bottle by the window, numerous food stained clothes in the laundry basket and a variation of other items around the room away.

"You don't have to do that for me."

The green eyed lad tosses one of Mason's stained onesies into the laundry basket and proceeds to move the piles of clothing beside his bed over to Louis'. "I am not doing it for you, do not get carried away. It is a pigsty in here and I like to sleep clean."

Louis' face scrunches up in distaste. "Neat freak." He tucks Mason back into their bed and gets in himself, cocooning him and the little child in the covers.

He watches Harry drop the last pile of clothes by his bed and watches him strip to his underwear. There are tattoos fading into each other, creeping up onto his neck, an ink sheet over the colour of his skin. The tattoos run down the sleeves of his arms, to his prominent v-line, onto his thighs and there are tattoos scattered on his calfs. There's the pink of laurel flowers on his thighs, the blue of a rose on his arm, an image of the joker, skeletons, vines, dices, eight balls, a sleek dedication to Egyptian mythology on his back as he turns around and just about everything that could shock Mason out of his skin.

His lip is pierced with a hoop, eyebrow with a bar, and when he sticks out his tongue to lick his lips, Louis sees the piercing there too and automatically feels lightheaded.

"You are going to give my child a heart attack."

Harry bellows out a laugh, cracking his fingers as he begins to remove the numerous amounts of silver rings accenting them, placing them on the windowsill beside Mason's bottles.

"Don't sleep like that," Louis protests.

"I sleep naked," the tattooed student thumbs at his underwear mockingly.

"God," Louis stuffs his face under the sheets for a mere moment before popping back up cautiously. "No. If you're sleeping here, it's with a tee or a bin bag on, I don't really care. Just not naked."

Harry completely dismisses Louis and gets into his bed as he is, kicking the sheets down to the foot of the mattress.

"Naked is the new black," he exhales loudly, crossing his ankles and placing his hands behind his head.

Louis hangs over the side of the bed to grab the first piece of clothing item that comes into contact with his hand and dashes it angrily towards the student. It's a pair of his underwear and it lands directly onto the curly headed lad's face.

Harry flings it off and smirks. "I guess that is your way of asking me to shove my face in your pants. Why do not you ask kindly, Blue?"

Louis' mouth drops and all he can do in response is flip the lamp light switch so that the darkness hides his embarrassment and force himself to sleep through the first and last dreaded night of having a dorm mate.

_Fucking dad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I love this fic and all I've written so far so I hope you love it too.
> 
> Leave your thoughts :) .x


	2. IMPORTANT

Hiya! I just wanted to say thank you for the reads and in particular the comments :)

There's been a bit of repulsion in terms of the way that Louis treats Mason. It is so important that I explain why and give you as much background information as I can. At the end of the day, that does not make the way Louis treats Mason any bit okay. I don't condone verbal child abuse and haven't written it for the sake of it but because I want to make this fic as real as possible (to the extent of Louis raising his kid in college). The way he treats Mason does flicker out and Harry plays a big role in that. It's kind of cliché.

Three years ago, Louis was partying, drinking (illegally as he lives in America and was only 17 then, now 20) and basically having a good fuck around. Bare in mind that his mentality back then was all about having fun. A one night stand lead to Mason and he freaked out. He was the kind of father to abandon his child as a means to avoid the reality, signed the birth certificate (mainly because Mason's mother blackmailed him to) and opted to pay for child care instead of look after Mason along with Mason's mother. Since then he's gone to college and in order to pay his child care fee every month, he's had to get a part time job (which he no longer has due to Mason) which has always made him struggle with time. He gave up on the partying lifestyle after Mason was born a), to avoid it happening again and b), because it was a massive wake up call and he needed to get his life together. Mason's bombshell on him has majorly disrupted the life he's tried to obtain and that is one of the reasons why Louis is so frustrated hence the way he treats Mason.

Then very recently, Louis had to sign Mason as his responsibility because Mason's mother pretty much abandoned him. It was the last thing he was expecting and especially just as he had started his final year of college. It's forced him to face reality and swearing at Mason half the time is a coping mechanism albeit an awful one but he hasn't raised Mason until now so he pretty much doesn't know how to do shit all, (i.e. forgetting to put a nappy on Mason at night which will occur, I'm telling you haha).

Louis doesn't really go out with Mason because his time is scarce so social services hasn't been called because no one's really witnessed anything except from Louis' dad and now Harry. Louis' dad wouldn't call social services because it's his son, even if what he's doing is wrong (which this can cause a lot of controversy, I know).

**I also apologise for the lack of tagging, it completely passed my mind as I was more focused on writing about the verbal abuse in the warnings in chapter one than adding it to the tags. That's my major fuck up so I am dearly sorry about that and I have added it into the tags in caps.**

If you've gotten up to reading here, I assume you'll read further. If you do, I promise everything settles and the main focus of this fic will no longer be the way Louis treats Mason, but the mystery surrounding Harry.

Once again, **thank you ever so much,** and have a lovely day wherever you are :)

Much love .xx

Li.


	3. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! This is a bit of an apology update for the lack of explanation before posting chapter 1. As I mentioned in my note before, if you've read past chapter 1, I am assuming you're here to stay. If so, thank you :) It means a lot, especially knowing that I'm writing out of my comfort zone and including things that not everyone is okay reading but as I said, I'm trying to make this as real as possible and there are some parents out there in the world that do absolutely vile shit to their kids, so Louis swearing, despite it being as awful as it is, appears miniscule on the scale of things you could do to a kid, you know? 
> 
> If I'm making any sense...
> 
> Please enjoy! I've put aside revision to edit and post this so I hope you do!!
> 
> Louis learns a bit more about Harry in this chapter :) I'm also adding Louis-centric to the tags just because a lot of the writing focuses on him but there's tons of Harry in there too, don't worry!

"Mama..."

"Go away."

"Cold," Mason whines, tugging at the bed sheets that Louis - in the midst of his sleep - has stolen from the little child.

"I don't care."

"Mama," the boy starts to cry, pulling at Louis' hair and slobbering all over the back of his head. "Mama, mama, mama!"

Louis growls, finally opening his eyes and flipping over. "Have some of the damn covers then!"

"Mama, wet," the two year old looks down sadly. "Bed wet."

Louis feels it, the wet sheets beneath him that has soaked his entire middle, the mattress and stained the quilt cover. "Of fucking course, I forgot to put a damn nappy on you," he mutters to himself.

He looks over to the alarm clock and clenches his entire body with anger when he sees the time reading four in the morning. He hears the snoring of Harry and wants to grab the alarm clock, slam it in his face and dent him to shut him up. Instead, he switches on the lamp light, gets out of bed and picks out a new tee and underwear for him and a tee for Mason.

He goes into the bathroom, wipes the two of them down and makes sure to strap a nappy secure onto Mason, then heads back into the room. The whole idea of changing the bed sheets, applying new ones and changing the quilt cover is too upsetting, so Louis gathers a few pillows and stuffed bears to make a nest on the floor. His only problem is that he doesn't have a spare comforter to spread over them.

"Mase," he takes his hand, "come."

They leave the dorm room, both barefooted and cold with the draft that wisps through the hallway. It's the nippy month of January, his psychology mock re-sit is around the corner and the new year so far has sucked.

The location of Mason's biological mother is still pending. He hasn't gone out and had time to himself since the start of December. He hasn't been able to do a Walmart haul to stock up on just about everything him and Mason need because he has a definite suspension on his driving license with ten months to go out of the one year it's suspended for. He doesn't trust taxi drivers and now his father is planting a bloody room mate on him, and Mason has just wet the damn bed.

Louis is allowed to be seething as he grabs a brand new comforter from the large closet down the hallway. He doesn't even attempt to button up a bed sheet on it, he's too tired to. He takes Mason's hand and makes his way down the hallway back to his dorm room, then he plops down on the floor with the covers.

Louis internally groans when he realises he could have nicked Harry's bed cover for the night and spared himself a trip down the hall. Mason sees the frustration on his face and tilts his little head on the pillow.

"Mama? Otay?" Mason tangles his fingers in Louis' hair, his favourite thing to do.

"No," Louis mumbles, tired yet wide awake.

"Hurt, mama?"

"I said don't call me that," Louis pulls his son's hand away, curses when he realises he's left the lamp on and can't be bothered to get up and switch it off. "I'm not your mum. She fucked off."

Mason looks questioningly at Louis, eyes wide and glazed over. He sniffles, rubbing at his nose and lays on his stomach. "Mama," he stretches an arm out to ball his fist on Louis' tee.

"No, I'm your dad, not mama."

"Mama, mama," the little child repeats, clutching at Louis' tee more tightly and stretching the fabric.

"No. Daddy. Say daddy."

"Mama."

"Dada."

"Mama."

" _Baba_."

"Mama."

Louis lies flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and silently regretting every point in his life that has lead up to now. Mason crawls up onto his chest, laying flat on his stomach again and tucks his hands under Louis' armpits.

"I cannot deal with you," he pats a hand on Mason's bum, too lazy to wrap the quilt properly over them. It's freezing. Louis doesn't know how Harry has got the covers at his feet.

Louis watches the tattooed lad's chest rise and fall and witnesses his head droop off the side along with his arm, Harry on the cusp of dropping off the bed. The cerulean eyed boy reckons it'll be a lovely sight, second place to watching him get the hell out of his dorm room, but Harry only rolls over, back to them.

Louis sighs, finally draws the covers over him and Mason properly and drifts off back to sleep, thankful his psychology and performing arts classes are in the afternoon.

When Louis wakes up, it's on his own accord as Mason is still fast asleep on his chest, dribbling all over his tee. There's a small stain of puke accompanying the drool. That's what happens when Louis gives Mason milk before bed and the child ends up lying on his stomach. They never learn.

He also wakes up to the melodic sound of humming, gentle and jubilant, the shower running in the background. It's Harry, of course, and despite the few seconds Louis takes to appreciate his humming, the alarm clock reads _9:32am_ and the blue eyed boy is reminded that before the afternoon starts, he has to sort out this dorm room issue.

The sight of one of Harry's boxes opened and emptied is enough to shock him out of his nest on the carpet. Mason tumbles onto the pillows by accident, floored and starts to cry at the jolt to his system. Louis sympathetically picks him up as he stands, only to be greeted with a very much clean bed, sheets changed and new ones impeccably neat. He drops his jaw just as the bathroom door is opening and Harry is stepping out, towel around his waist and hair dripping wet.

"You did not just make my bed."

"I had to, 'neat freak' and all," the green eyed lad grins, teeth and dimples on full show. "Although, the pee on the mattress was hard to tackle."

Louis' mind runs on overload for a bare moment. _Stop_ _dripping on my fucking floor, don't touch my fucking shit, put on a fucking shirt before Mason pees again and pack that fucking box back up._ He watches the beads of water trickle down Harry's bare chest from his ringlets, watches him flick his tongue out and roll the ball of his piercing on his lip, then drag in his hoop.

"Mama," Mason pats on his cheek with one hand, pulling at his hair with his other then points at the curly headed lad. "Colouring."

"No," Louis snorts, combing out the hairband from Mason's messy hair, "but if you want to colour on him, I'd rather you do that than the walls."

Harry walks across the room, smirk on his lips as he draws out an outfit from the second box. Louis internally freaks out at the fact that the second box is starting to be emptied already. He glares at the curly headed lad as he lifts Mason up higher on his hip.

"What part of 'I don't want you naked around Mason' do you not get?"

"I think it's more so for you than it is him," Harry gives an innocent smile that makes Louis want to rip his eyebrow piercing out, "and give me a break, Blue. I have just gotten out of the shower."

Louis purses his lips together, teeth clenched behind them and simply turns his back on Harry, going into the bathroom to wash him and Mason, brush their teeth and stomp right over to his dad who's going to get an ear load. When he enters the room again, Harry is gone leaving that same annoying yet incredibly attractive Tom Ford aftershave lingering in the air, _Tobacco._

Louis places Mason on their bed, shuffling through their clothes and picking out their outfits for the day. A go-to dungaree for Mason with a stripy shirt and the tiniest pair of Doc Martens, and the good old college look of skinny jeans, vans and a sweater for Louis.

Once the pair are dressed, Louis is in full ramp mode, locking the door to the dorm room and barging right on through into his dad's office at the end of the hallway. His dad is the dorm manager alongside management over the building's security, the reason why Louis is even allowed to raise a child on campus. He is truly thankful for his dad, but when he discards a student in his dorm room and disturbs the balance of things, the blue eyed boy reckons he could shove a fist in his father's face.

He guesses he could have been stuck with a worse room mate for the night. Someone who would have added to the mess in his room, judged him for the fact that he's raising a kid on campus because the mother is nowhere to be found.

The agreement was that she'd take Mason and Louis would pay for child care. It fell through his fingers instead though, because here he is, a full time parent trying to pass his psychology test at the end of the week whilst handling a stubborn, clingy two year old. The betrayal was that she just disappeared, against his will, leaving a mess in his trail because he never wanted Mason.

Looking at his son's face is a sore reminder of the things he screwed up the year Mason was conceived. From his relationship with his mum, Jay, to the best friend he fucked over, to his health as he started drinking and chain smoking without a care, solely the reason why Mason sits on his lap today as Louis faces his dad.

He never wanted Mason, got his last name to be inherited from his mother - Jennings. Part of him still doesn't want him, but he's just gotten used to having him around, doesn't think he could live without him, actually. There are days where his dad is off work and Louis is able to hand Mason off to his gramps, and the day always ends up being longer, more quiet, more lonely.

"Hi, son."

"Hi, _dad_ ," Louis spits back as he takes a seat at his dad's desk. He'll be fine once this dorm issue is sorted, but right now he's just cranky and exhausted from his disrupted sleep. "You know, as a parent, it's important you do what's in your kid's best interest. How would Mason survive if I chucked him out onto the road?"

His dad rolls his eyes, "don't be dramatic, Louis, or cruel. That does not compare sufficiently to the reason why you're here."

"And why am I here, dad?" Louis sarcastically questions, angry and knee bouncing, Mason along with his leg.

"You think I'm not doing what's in your best interest, that it's not fair for you to have a dorm partner given your circumstances. Hear me out, boobear, it is well in your interest. You spend your days cooped up alone with Mason if not in lessons, you don't have anyone but Niall who's only able to visit during the breaks. You are going to go mental."

"And, what? You think giving me a dorm mate like Harry is going to do me any good? Why ain't he allowed near the dorms, dad? Did he screw some girl despite the dorm rules? Is he the leader of a chain of misfits who smoke and drink booze on campus? What, did he assault a student?"

The disappointed look on his father's face answers a significant _no_ to all his questions and Louis stops himself from asking more. His dad shakes his head, ashamed of the judgemental words coming out of his son's mouth. He raised him better than that.

"Louis," he looks at his son as if he's got two heads. "Harry is one of the nicest students on campus. He's a top level student who takes his place here at Trinity wholeheartedly. He's not allowed near the dorms because he's being bullied."

Louis' breath hitches in his throat and he squeezes Mason's arm as he flinches, a disturbing visual of the tattooed lad getting called sick names and beaten up plaguing his mind.

"Having the Rivas family on campus has only worsened it for him, and the thing is, this isn't high school. There's all this freedom and availability to attack someone like Harry just because of the way he looks."

"Because his piercings and tattoos?" Louis gulps. "Doesn't it make him unapproachable, though?"

"Not when there's a whole student body against one single person. So understand why I moved Harry to your dorm room. I do hope your next words aren't for me to move him again because if that's what you wish, I'll have to put him in hallway B where they're just as cruel to him."

"But... Isn't he rich? His father is the CEO of some classified company. Doesn't that give him the reputation of someone not to mess with?"

"It doesn't work like that, Louis. Even more so, the fact that no one knows the name of the company his father owns makes it sounds like a fabrication all for the sake of sparing him the bullying. We don't have the nicest people here at all. I would say Harry is the only kind person around despite his piercings and tattoos."

Louis' lips form into a straight line as he absentmindedly strokes Mason's thigh for comfort. The little child is still tired, probably more parched and ravenous because they haven't had breakfast yet, and he hasn't said much all morning. Usually, he's either whining, gargling or making some sort of noise that notifies Louis that he's well and alive. Now, he lays with his back against Louis' chest, a couple fingers in his mouth just staring at his gramps.

"He didn't sound like someone getting bullied," Louis furrows his eyebrows. "He was very forward with me, so much I found it rather irritating."

His dad hums knowingly, a smile on his face. "He sees you as a shelter already."

Louis tilts his head questioningly as Mason turns on his lap, cuddling into his chest like a bear and closing his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You are safe. On first impression, you did not look at him disgusted. You have a child with you meaning his chances of receiving abuse from you is little."

"I'm not an abusive prick, dad, his chances are negative one," Louis corrects him, offended.

His father only chuckles, clicking on his pen. "Which is why I'm hoping you will settle down and let him stay. You only have a year left, wouldn't it be nice to spend it with company?"

"I have Mason."

"And Mason has you and you both have me but you need new people too," his dad stresses. "So this whole situation is beneficial for both you and Harry."

Louis sighs, rubbing Mason on his back softly. "Dad, I just don't want Mase getting attached to someone who ain't gonna be around in a year."

"I understand, but I'd like to think it's more so for you than it is him," his dad places a hand under his chin, thinking.

"You sound like him," the blue eyed boy raises an eyebrow.

"He talks to me a lot, about what he goes through," his dad turns around to close the window behind him, a cold breeze icing out the room. "It's a right chill out there, ain't it?"

"It's meant to blizzard," Louis throws his head back exaggeratedly. "I've got to get into town to stock up in that kind of weather. It's a bummer."

His father smirks, "learnt your lesson about accumulating too many driving record points and getting multiple traffic violations and speeding tickets?"

Louis nods his head violently, a look of desperation on his face. "Dear heavens above, if you hear me, make a miracle happen."

His dad laughs, evidently amused by Louis' misfortune but offers a solution. "Harry has an identical schedule to you. He finishes philosophy at five. Maybe you could ask him to drive you into town?"

Louis contemplates on it, but that means Mason spending more time around Harry and he doesn't want that, doesn't want his son to even attempt forming some kind of bond with his room mate. "No, I'll walk it."

His dad raises an eyebrow, "suit yourself. Did you open my apology gift?"

The cerulean eyed lad forgot all about it in his bothered state last night. "No, what is it?"

"Two tickets to Amsterdam to see your sisters in the Easter holidays."

A loving smile breaks out on Louis' face and he gets up when his dad does to hug him, Mason embraced in it too.

"Thank you, dad, but is mum okay with it?"

"Well she can't neglect her grandson," he laughs nervously. "She'll be fine."

Louis nods. "I'm sorry about yesterday night. I'm just exhausted."

"I know son. Go and get some breakfast with Mason before the morning gets away and I'll watch him during your lessons as usual."

"Yep, okay. Thanks dad," he collects himself, receiving a peck on the forehead before leaving his dad's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts? .x


	4. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It dies down, I promise.
> 
> Thank you for the lovely feedback, the positivity has made my days even brighter :)
> 
> This is only getting started but there is some good shit to come, I also promise. Stick around! <3

Louis doesn't eat in the dining hall. He purchases a granola and yogurt bowl to start his day off and a berry mix for Mason, then he routinely hides out under one of the trees outside. He's doubled up on Mason's clothing, throwing a sweater over his dungaree, zipping him up in a thick jacket, wrapping a woolly scarf around his neck, putting on a pair of gloves and lastly a beanie. It doesn't stop Mason's nose from tinting red though, and Louis wanders if he should have ate up in his dorm room today instead.

Breakfast is the only time of day Mason gets to go out, breathe fresh air and stick his hands in the grass, pulling out soil with the green. It's not Louis' fault, per se. He's got to cover fifteen hours of coursework each week and barely has the time to catch up on Dawn of the Croods with his son. His dad is always cooped up behind his desk keeping an eye on the security cameras or patrolling the building and isn't able to take Mason out either, so breakfast is crucial even if the weather is like ice has had a coughing fit.

When the cold gets too much to bare and the first flakes of the blizzard flutter down from the sky, Louis cuddles Mason's face into his neck, discards of their empty plastic bowls and takes them back to their dorm room as a quick pit stop to gather a few necessities for when his dad takes care of his grandson for the afternoon.

The first thing Louis notices when he steps through the door is his desk remarkably clean. His pens are tied together in groups with small elastic bands according to their colour, the paper in his files have been straightened so no corners are poking out, and there is a Yankee candle burning away from his dad's gift making the room smell of cookies and cream.

Then he notices how his and Mason's nest of pillows on the floor has been fluffed and put onto their bed, and the comforter has been folded and left at the end of the mattress. Finally, he notices Harry, laying on his bed, earphones in and eyes closed. His finger is tapping on his thigh so he's definitely awake but he hasn't noticed Louis yet.

"Mama," Mason pulls at his jacket. "Off."

Louis closes the door, putting Mason on the ground and crouching down to unzip his little jacket. Then the boy is waddling off towards Harry before Louis can register it and stop him. Mason stops beside Harry, who hasn't yet felt his presence, and brings up a sticky finger from his fruit to poke at Harry's eyebrow piercing.

At the touch, Harry jolts, dragging his earphones out. When he realises it's the two year old, he smiles widely instead of screaming at the child. Louis doesn't know why he expects the worst from Harry.

"Hiya, dumpling," Harry reaches out to ruffle Mason's hair but stops midway to look towards Louis who's been staring. "May I?"

Louis snaps out of his gaze, pulling at his sleeves. "Oh, yep, yeah."

Harry cards his fingers through Mason's hair, messing it up as the two year old looks at him with large doe eyes. The green eyed lad looks back up at Louis who can't seem to edge out of his stiff stance. "He's freezing."

"We just came from outside," he replies monotonously. "The blizzard is starting."

"Ah, yeah, I heard about it. It's going to be a rough one," Harry strokes Mason's face, watching the child lean into his touch. Then he sits up to reach over to his bedside table where a warm cup of cocoa with marshmallows and cream sits. "Would you like to have some hot cocoa to warm you up?"

Mason blinks innocently and brings a finger up to stick it in the cup. He nicks a marshmallow off the top and stuffs it into his mouth, then with his little hands, grabs the cup and drinks some of it, a large amount of hot cocoa spilling down his dungaree and top. He's got a cream moustache when he looks up at Harry.

"Yummy," he bounces on his feet, only to spill some of the hot cocoa on Harry's lap. Mason turns to look at Louis. "Mama, I like."

Louis smiles at his child, finally moving to pack a backpack with a couple of Mason's alphabet blocks and a plush bear. "We'll start having hot cocoa more often then, Mase."

Mason tilts his head, sliding his back on Harry's knee until he's situated between his legs comfortably, Harry wrapping an arm around his middle affectionately. "No, mama. Like..." Mason trails off to turn around in Harry's arms, confused. "Wha's name?"

The curly headed lad's eyes sparkle as he looks down at the child, "Harry."

Mason turns back to face Louis, little teeth showing as he smiles joyfully. "Like Hawie."

Louis pauses half way to picking up a pack of wipers and feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He shouldn't feel irked but he is, because he doesn't want Mason to get attached, and if all it takes for him to like harry is a cup of cocoa then Louis is genuinely concerned.

"Mason, come here and let me change you," Louis opts to say instead of telling Harry to get away from his child. When Mason doesn't budge and Louis has to go over to the pair and grab him by the wrist, that's when he sees the fingernail shaped cuts on the inner parts of Harry's right collarbone. They're swollen, nasty through his tattoos and definitely not an accident.

Louis flinches, the conversation with his dad coming back to mind. He drops Mason's arm and looks Harry in his eyes. "What happened?"

Harry looks down shamefully, holding onto Mason's little fingers and twiddling with them for comfort. "Nothing," he mutters, words just above a whisper.

Louis doesn't touch the topic any further, only takes the cup from Mason and puts it back on the bedside table, then takes the two year old and begins to unclip his dungaree and take of his top, replacing them with a woollen sweater and a little pair of joggers. The silence in the room is too much for Louis to bear so he coughs.

"I'm heading out into town after classes so I won't be here. Please don't make this room any cleaner than it is." He slings the backpack over his shoulder, gathers a notebook and pen and walks with Mason to the door, opening it. "Please blow out the candle and get a spare key from my dad to lock the door."

He closes the door behind him before he gets an answer, and doesn't mean to be rude, but he's a little freaked out by Mason's interaction with Harry. It takes all of his willpower not to reiterate the removal of the tattooed lad from his dorm room when he drops Mason off to his dad, and that little bit more as he lounges around in his dad's office for half an hour waiting for his psych class to start at twelve thirty and Mason is singing, "Hawie, Hawie, Hawie," as he orders his blocks.

•

Psychology kills him, because the last question he has to filter before he does his re-sits at the end of the week is one he doesn't even want to begin to pick apart. _What influences attraction? Is it proximity, having someone close to you? Is it self disclosure, sharing personal information?_ Louis doesn't want to branch out on the topic. Love has always been a ball of nothingness to him. He doesn't need it nor want it.

His performing arts class runs smoothly, has a coursework catch up instead of a practical. He's thankful he gets to sit on his ass for another two hours, because he's just plainly exhausted. Nothing new. He gets out of P.A. a little later than is okay, having to spend an extra half an hour consolidating his work, and when he drops by his dad's office to pick up Mason, there's a note stuck on the door left specifically for him.

_Louis,_

_You must be running really late. I tried to hold off patrol for as long as I can but you know I have to stick to my schedule. I've left Mason with Harry, please don't be mad. He won't do anything but take care of him. I trust him. I'll drop by before I'm off to home._

_\- Dad_

Louis' heart stops for a moment. He trusts his dad, trusts that someone like Harry who gets abused would never have the heart to harm anyone because he knows what it's like, but this is still a stranger. Someone he met last night and it isn't even a full twenty four hours later.

He peels the sticky note off the door and balls it up, stuffing it in his pocket and then clutches onto his notebook and pen as he sprints to his dorm room. He pulls down the handle more violently than he thought he was capable of and prepares for the worst, only to be met with the sight of Mason on Harry's lap on the green eyed lad's bed, both colouring onto one of the little boy's colouring pads.

Louis exhales, still doesn't know why he expects the worst from Harry. Harry who's done nothing but clean his room and offer Mason hot cocoa. They greet him with wide eyes, the slam of the door hitting the wall alerting them. Harry raises an eyebrow.

"The door does not feel pain, you know."

Louis looks down at his feet, embarrassed before he scrambles to shut the door, put down his notebook and pen and present himself properly and less of a flustered mess.

"Thank you for looking after Mason," he breathes out, "I'm going to take him now."

Harry smiles sweetly, lifting the child up off his lap with a struggle, Mason whining. Louis relieves Harry from his small battle by picking Mason up under the arms and sitting him on his hip.

"Mama, no. Hawie."

"No, Mason. We need to go into town," Louis mutters, heading over to his bedside table to retrieve his wallet. He checks that nothing is missing since Harry has pretty much put his hands on everything in the room. _If it's not clean, he cleans it. If it's clean, he makes it cleaner._

"Mama!" Mason starts to pull at Louis' hair, the start to his every tantrum. "Hawie!"

A sharp intake of breath is heard when one particular tug is painful. Louis bats away Mason's hand causing him to cry.

"I said we're going into town," Louis grits his teeth. "You are not staying here."

Mason doesn't understand, only wails more until his face is red, snot is dripping onto his top lip and Louis is feeling like he could drag his nails down a chalkboard. He slams his wallet down on the bedside table and lifts Mason up so that they're face to face.

"Shut up before I lose my damn mind! You didn't know Harry yesterday and you were perfectly fine so stop crying and shut the fuck up!"

Harry frowns as he stands up, inching closer to the two but keeping his distance. "You should not talk to him like that. He will act differently when he is older because of it."

Louis snaps his stare to the tattooed lad and gives a deathly look. "Don't tell me how to talk to my son! Don't tell me how to do anything with my son! He's my son, I'll speak to him how I want!"

Harry purses his lips, feeling sympathetic towards Mason who only cries louder. The level above can surely hear it. He can't help but curl into himself at Louis' tone of voice.

"Mama, co-old! 'Side cold! No go!"

Louis shuts his eyes, says a quick prayer underneath his breath and cools himself down by breathing in deeply. He holds Mason to his chest and waits for him to settle down, hiccups occurring every few seconds. When Mason's cries have deducted to whimpers, Louis strokes his hair back, receiving puppy dog eyes that make him bite his cheek, silently scolding himself for his outburst.

" _Mama_..."

"I know, Mase. It's freezing, but we need to get some things for you and me, okay? Then we can watch Dawn of the Croods," he wipes away the tears off Mason's cheeks.

The little child perks up at the mention of the cartoon. "Dawn Cwoo, mama?"

"Yes, darling," Louis subtly sighs. He doesn't have an inchling of time to watch cartoons when he's got a re-sit around the corner. Even though it's a mock, he needs all the practice he can get to pass psychology. It's what he's finding hardest to pass.

"Go, mama," Mason shuffles out of his arms, Louis putting him down. He waddles over to his coat, struggling to put it on until Harry gets to him first to help him. The child is then grabbing Harry's hand and stretching out his other for Louis. "Mama, hold."

Louis gets what Mason wants, Harry to come with then, but he's wary about it. Harry sees the look of a mental debate on Louis' face and offers a gentle smile.

"I heard your license is suspended," Harry tries not to provoke Louis but the smaller boy is always so tense and the green eyed lad feels the need to prod at him until he cracks a genuine smile. Harry ends up smirking, a little laugh escaping from his mouth that he then muffles with the back of his hand.

Louis only looks ten times more frustrated and Harry tries to put on a serious face.

"Sorry, I am being rude. I meant to say I could come with you two and give you a ride. It is too cold and far to walk."

Louis looks down at Mason's little fingers digging into the curve of Harry's large hands and knows that prying the child off the tattooed lad will result in a war. He sighs defeatedly. Harry smiles largely at Mason in success.

"Let's go, dumpling," Harry beams at Mason then looks at Louis. "Let's go, Blue."

Louis makes sure to double up on Mason's clothing again and his own before they leave campus.

They're by the diapers and nappy rash creams when Louis finally makes the move to question Harry, get to know him for the sake of his sanity. This is his room mate for the next year, his son's room mate too - he's cautious.

"Why the tattoos and piercings?"

Harry bites his tongue, trying not to feel offended at the questioning of his physical features. He fishes for an answer but doesn't have a solid one apart from, "because."

Louis knows it's his cue to not dive head first in any further on the topic and he doesn't as he tosses a jumbo pack of Pamper nappies into the trolley, the box thudding. Mason, sat before Louis in the children's seat, has his fingers stuffed in his mouth and Louis yanks his hand away.

"Oi. Stop it. That's nasty."

"Dummy," Mason puts his fingers back in his mouth.

"No, I'm not paying for braces," Louis rolls the trolley forward, Harry by his side and quiet.

Mason starts to squirm in his seat, struggling to get out and Louis knows there's a fit about to be thrown. He gives the child a warning look but it doesn't stop him from flailing his legs and kicking Louis in the stomach painfully. The cerulean eyed lad is winded, stops the trolley to clutch onto his stomach and looks at Mason with a look that could kill.

"You mother-"

Mason lets out a wail that has the entire aisle looking at all three of them in annoyance. The loud outburst particularly catches the attention of a couple, the kind that looks like they've walked out of a movie, who screw face Harry in such a way that Louis sees him flinch. They have a child - three, Louis guesses - who takes one look at Harry and starts to cry.

The curly headed lad shifts on his feet, looking down and waiting for the attention to wash off from him. He swallows the lump in his throat, focuses his attention on Mason whose little face (despite the snot and tears) offers him comfort. However, the little child is staring at his father, eyes large and blue as Louis curses under his breath.

Harry doesn't know Louis but knows that the profanity half way out of his mouth should never be spoken to a child or be used to name one. It is so clear that Louis is frustrated and doesn't know how to properly handle Mason when the child has a tantrum, so Harry does what will benefit both him, Louis and Mason in this situation.

"Let me take him to the car."

Louis looks up at Harry, anger still plastered across his face, but it starts to soften at the suggestion. The blue eyed lad still doesn't want Mason alone with Harry and he has every darn right to feel like that, but if he's being honest with himself, it will only take him half an hour to gather everything they need. Louis can trust half an hour because Mason was fine when he was late back from class. So he gulps down any opposition and lets Harry pick up his son who cuddles his face into the taller man's neck.

Harry needs to get out of there anyway. _Fucking cunts staring._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a question. Since I have thirteen chapters written already, I'm wondering if you would like me to post every couple or few days or post once a week? The only thing with posting every couple of days is that when I hit chapter 13, it will be once a week just because I struggle with this double life I'm living, being a college student and also writing Larry shit ;)
> 
> Please let me know what you guys would prefer and also leave any thoughts on this chapter! :D .x


	5. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii :) Massive thank you for the feedback on an update schedule and this fic as a whole. LOTS OF LOVE <3
> 
> Here's chapter 4 :D Excuse any mistakes, my eyes were drooping shut editing this because I've gotten the flu and it's late (10pm is late for me)

Harry doesn't say anything the entire drive back home, only grips tightly onto the steering wheel and glances at Mason on Louis' lap in the back every now and again. He does Louis a solid favour making two trips up to carry all the shopping bags to their dorm room, but even then when Louis thanks him, he's quiet and in his shell.

Louis sets Mason down on the floor with his toys whilst he unpacks the bags, putting the milk, juices, some fruit to last longer and numerous other items into the fridge, and the rest of the items in their designated places around the room. He can't help but glance at Harry every now and again who's sat on his bed tapping furiously at his phone, lips pursed. Louis reckons any harder and the screen will shatter.

"The screen does not feel pain, you know?" Louis mocks Harry as he shelves Stephen King's _Thinner_ , purchasing it purely for the sake of vanity and aesthetic. He'll never find the time to sit down and read it.

The green eyed lad peaks up, contemplating, biting his lip, his hoop. It's attractive, Louis will admit, but it's a strange thought. He hasn't found himself attracted to anything or anyone since the mess of Mason, and definitely not a guy.

Harry then looks back down at his phone, doesn't even respond to Louis' statement _,_ and the blue eyed parent resumes the last of his errands. The violent tapping on Harry's phone doesn't stop, draws out for an agonising twenty minutes and Louis kind of wants to know what's going on in Harry's life, what's got him so worked up, and also break the glass occupied by the Yankee candle on his head for the annoying background noise.

Louis glances at Mason, checks he's okay - he's slobbering all over his shirt, eyes half closed. He's yet to have his afternoon nap. The blue eyed lad makes a daring move before Mason starts whining for him and being clingy, as he does when he's sleepy. He approaches Harry, takes a seat on the edge of his bed, uninvited but there nevertheless. Harry's head snaps up at the dip of the mattress.

"Who are you texting?"

The green eyed student turns his phone screen off, more hastily than necessary which causes Louis to give him an off look.

"My father."

Louis hums, not so convinced. Harry sees it on his face and his fixed expression softens, a little smirk appearing.

"I am not lying, if that is what you are thinking, Blue."

Louis takes the nickname and change of mood as a full on invitation further onto his bed, and he sits in front of Harry, legs crossed.

"I don't get that nickname," he furrows his eyebrows.

Harry's lips tilt up into a smile. He looks down shyly at his phone then back up. "Your eyes. They are illegally blue."

"You say 'illegally' as if it's a crime."

"It is," Harry confirms. "You have stolen the Seven Seas."

Louis gets what he's doing, trying to sugarcoat his every sentence, spew a compliment out so the smaller boy forgets that his dad is working him up for God knows what. He takes the compliment regardless, if the blush on his face is anything to go by. Louis wants to pry some information out of Harry, about what's going on, but the curly headed lad's smile sinks like the Titanic as he catches Mason in his view.

"What?"

Harry is barging Louis out of the way, the smaller boy tumbling back on the bed, and he would yell a simple _what the fuck?_ , but it's because Mason's face is blue. All this talk about blue and that is what Mason is, choking on a fragment of some toy, possibly.

Louis screams, panics, bolts over to his son yet can't do anything but watch Harry slam a hand down on his back repeatedly. It hurts Mason, but it's what gets the red wheel of one of his wooden trains flying out of his mouth. Louis cries, clutching Mason to his chest, the smaller boy crying with him.

Louis looks down at Mason. "You can't do that to me!"

Harry dares to rest a hand on his shoulder, but Louis is thankful because the touch soothes him, settles him down a bit so he's able to breath and look at him with _I am forever in your debt_ eyes. He hugs Mason tightly to him, a hand in his hair.

"Mama, mama, mama-"

"I know, baby, I know. It's okay. You're okay," Louis rubs his back soothingly, aware of the fact it must be sore. He turns to Harry with a glare, layers of gratefulness puncturing through. "If you ever hit my son again-"

Harry attacks him in a hug around his head, bare bicep covering his mouth purposely. He smells good, like he has since yesterday, and Louis feels like if he changed that cologne, it would feel like the end of Christmas. The green eyed lad nudges his face against Louis' ear and the latter can feel his eyebrow bar, quite likes the feel of the smooth metal. Then Harry grunts, shifting away and getting up.

He doesn't say anything, just grabs a folder from under his bed and a variation of pens and begins to work on some class work. Philosophy, Louis figures, seeing the question in bold on the top of his page, _What Is Truth?_

Louis dismisses Harry's lack of silence again, assumes he's just in shock from what's happened with Mason. He moves himself and the little boy off the floor and into their bed, under the covers, makes a mental note to fold all of their clothes splayed across the floor beside them - the only thing Harry hasn't cleaned yet - and drifts off into an early evening nap. They'll have to have a late dinner.

•

Mason is stingy when he wakes up to the sound of knocking on the door, and Louis is royally pissed when he feels the bed wet again because he forgot to put a damn nappy on Mason with all the shock. He's thankful it's not on him this time, annoyed that he's got to change the sheets. He would hint at Harry the need for it, but the student isn't in the dorm room.

"Open up, it's me," his dad calls through the door.

The clock reads _9:56pm_. He doesn't know why his dad is still on campus two hours later than when his twelve hour shift ends. He can smell Chinese takeout through the door and scrambles to switch the lamp on, get up and open it quick because he is starving.

"How could I live without you, dad?" He grabs the takeout bag, inhaling the food. His dad laughs and steps into his room, closing the door. "Why are you still here?"

"I've had to file in about a missing handbag - Ms. Lowe's. Do a patrol, run the security camera tapes, that sort of stuff. Thought I'd get you some takeaway and see Mason a bit before I go."

Louis nods, ushering his dad to take a seat at his desk given the wet bed.

"I'm just going to change Mason, I'll be back," he grabs a little onesie with blue stripes, gets the two year old to follow him into the bathroom and changes him.

When he comes back out, the paper lids to the tin boxes have been removed and his dad hands him a plastic fork and a box with the rice. Louis sits on the edge of his bed, Mason between his legs on the floor and with every two fork fulls of food he eats, Mason receives one.

They're halfway through their dinner when Louis perks up, curious.

"Is it usual for Harry to just disappear without telling anyone?"

His dad snorts. "More than. He's very secretive about it. He has a mate called Eden, he goes to see her often but that's all I know."

"Oh. Fuck buddy?"

His dad laughs, "language, Lou, and he'd rather do the crack of a door. He's gay. Some people on campus know, enhances the whole bullying to an unreal level. They don't spread it so much because the more bullies, the less of a time of day they get. The Rivas family don't talk about it at all."

Louis nods his head slowly, hates to hear about Harry's situation, especially since the green eyed lad doesn't talk about it himself yet Louis' hearing all about it from his dad, an exposure of personal information. However, he knows it's his dad's way of still apologising for the dorm room issue. Louis will feel more at ease the more he knows about Harry albeit negative or not.

"Why does he live on campus if he's just getting abused? He's rich enough, surely? He has fresh cuts on his collarbone, why don't you phone a helpline or something?"

His dad stops chewing on his food, pausing and contemplating. "I'm not sure, and I don't think it's any of my business. As for calling a helpline, he insists that I don't. I have to respect his wishes, I could get fired if the campus finds out about our private talks. I'm only qualified to run security, not be a counsellor or psychologist in any sort of way. I shouldn't be talking personally with students."

Louis hums, accepting his dad's answer and reaches down to feed Mason.

"I've had to book tomorrow off for a therapy session for my lower back. It usually falls on a Sunday but the schedule changed this week. I know that is going to cause some issues with your lessons tomorrow, so I was hoping you'd be okay letting Harry look after Mason as you do your afternoon classes? Harry doesn't have any classes tomorrow."

Louis shrugs, _that's if he comes back._ "It'll have to do."

They continue to eat their food, and when his dad leaves and him and Mason are sorted for the night and their bed is fresh with its sheets changed, Louis feels a little bit weird falling asleep without Harry in the room. It's only been a day, but he's spent more time with Harry than he spends with his dad per week.

He's not necessarily okay with it.

•

Harry's gone for two weeks and two days precisely.

Louis bombards his dad with questions that he can't answer properly apart from, _"_ _he tends to disappear for long periods of time."_ Each morning that Louis wakes up, it feels like Harry is just a figment of his imagination because he's that lonely, but then he sees the _What Is Truth?_ on the tattooed lad's bed and reality hits him in the face.

He's a little more worked up than he should be. Perhaps it's because Harry is a magnificent cleaner and his room is a pigsty again? Perhaps it's because he sits his psychology re-sit and all he wanders about is Harry? Perhaps it's because it's awfully suspicious that his new room mate disappears for two whole weeks without so much of an explanation?

But then the green eyed student is stumbling through his door at two in the morning, two weeks and two days later, shivering and elated at being in the warmth of the dorm room. The cold weather has remained, even though it's February and they're in the last month of winter. It's been blizzarding for the past few days and it is on high alert that they may be snowed in.

Louis opts for it so he can have more than a day to interrogate Harry before he disappears again.

"Where have you been?"

Harry switches on the main light and when Louis gets to see him in the flesh and clearly, he sees the dark bruise on his cheekbone, the slash on his lip that's already healing and a new piercing, his nose.

"Visiting my grandma," Harry mutters as he shuffles out of his winter coat and folds it over the end of his bed.

It's a lie, so obviously a lie and it infuriates Louis. "You're lying. Why have you come back at two in the bloody morning?"

Harry sighs, listens to Mason sneeze in his sleep cutely, then kicks off his boots. He turns to Louis when the smaller boy is still expecting a denial to his statement.

"What do you want me to say, Blue? I am entitled to privacy just like you are," he replies, face tired and pale - he hasn't slept.

Harry's right. One hundred and ten percent right but Louis feels as room mates and with a two year old in the room, that he should know everything, to be safe and for Mason to be safe. So he doesn't drop it there.

"Where have you been?" He repeats, more firmly. He will get the truth, if there's any.

Harry sighs, sitting down on the edge of his bed facing Louis and Mason. "At my father's company. I get called in often."

"What, to be a punch bag?"

The curly headed lad grazes his fingertips over the bruise on his cheek and drags his tongue piercing across the cut on his lip, wincing. "No, that is just what happens when you bark up the wrong tree."

Louis wants to prod further, but Mason's stirring awake, the first person he sees being Harry. He murders Louis' eardrums.

"Hawie!"

The two year old crawls out of bed, waddling over to Harry and tries to jump up on him, failing miserably. Harry laughs, picking him up and sitting him on his lap. Louis is surprised Mason even remembers who he is.

"He is a very small two year old."

Louis rolls his eyes, finally sitting up, resting his back against the headboard. "The fucker gets it from me."

"You _are_ very small," Harry agrees.

"No," Louis scoffs. "You're just awkwardly tall..." he trails off, watching Mason twirl his finger in Harry's hair, trace the tattoos on his neck. "I like the nose piercing."

Harry beams and throws himself back, Mason sitting on his stomach. "Thank you, Blue."

Louis watches the two through sleepy eyes, smiles when Harry starts to tickle Mason and he starts to giggle with his little voice. It's as if Harry was never gone, for Mason at least, because Louis still can't believe the man up and left for two weeks and two days without a _see you, Blue._

He doesn't get to ponder too much as Harry is staring at him, not creepily, but in thought.

"Is his mother blonde?"

The smaller boy shifts further down the headboard, rather uncomfortable with the topic of Mason's mum. Then again, he deserves it for trying to pry into Harry's life.

"Yeah...only thing Mason got from her." He watches Harry shiver, still evidently cold and not warmed up enough. Louis smiles, "Mason, do you want some hot cocoa?"

"Yes, mama."

Louis springs out of bed, awfully vibrant for someone who's just been woken up at two in the morning. He throws on a pair of vans, grabs a swipe card from one of his bedside table's draws and goes over to the two to toss Mason over his shoulder playfully.

He's got the door open when he looks back at Harry, seeing him pout at the loss of Mason and not making a move to go anywhere.

"Come on then, mate."

"The kitchen is closed."

Louis waves the card in his hand, smirking. "Courtesy of Sandy, she's amazing. I've got these just in case I run out of milk and Mason won't stop crying. The alarm won't be triggered but my dad will have an alert of movement on the system in the morning because no one is supposed to be in there. He'll see my butt on the security cameras but he'll let me get away with it."

"And I?"

"You too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts or comments? Let me know :) Have a lovely night/day .x
> 
> This is only getting started so I promise the good shit has yet to come ;)


	6. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I don't even know what happened :o   
> I'm sorry but here it is :D

They are sat in the empty dining hall, three mugs of hot cocoa on the table. Louis never stays here to eat throughout the day, doesn't like the _you're a single father and trying to pass college, you've fucked up your life,_ looks he gets from everyone. So it's nice to just sit there and not worry about receiving negative attention.

He swirls his finger in the whipped cream, plucking out a marshmallow and stuffing it in his mouth, licking his finger after. "I have a question."

Harry takes a sip of his drink and Mason cutely mimics, waiting for the curly headed lad to swallow before he does. "Yes?"

"So, I study psychology and I've been stuck on a question for weeks now and I've most likely failed that section in my exam. I'm wondering if I could have your input because quite frankly, I suck at the topic and you are a philosopher - you people form immaculate answers."

Harry hums, awaits Louis to continue.

"Harry, what do you think influences attraction?"

"Ah," Harry smiles knowingly, answer already formed. "Personally, I like to believe it is familiarity, liking those we have frequent contact with. It is only natural that given constant contact, you succumb to the feeling of it and yearn it if it is ever missed. You can easily link proximity to familiarity, as constantly being physically close to someone can spark an attraction."

Louis gapes. "How did you-"

"I am also a psych major. Received that question when you did. I have Professor Blake," Harry takes a sip of his hot cocoa.

"Oh," Louis tilts his head out of habit, something he accidentally nicked from Mason. "See, that's where I don't agree. Proximity, I like to think, drives an attraction that is already there. For example: barriers, liking someone you can't have. You are attracted to the fact that they are unobtainable and also to challenging yourself. The minute you get close to them physically, you're sort of in sensory overload, already attracted to them from before."

"I thought you said you suck?" Harry smirks playfully.

"Hmm," Louis contemplates, genuinely surprised at the argument he's given, "I thought so too."

"Now, solidify your answer. You have a foundation but where are the levels? Attack the causes deeper. So you are attracted to the fact they are unobtainable, but why?"

"I guess," Louis starts, lips parted as he breathes in, "that it is because it's a challenge of self worth, potentially an excuse for vanity depending on the person. If you can get the impossible to love you, your own self love is increased. You feel like you're worth it."

Harry prods further, "and then why does proximity seal the deal?"

"The same reason you can't touch the sky, but people like to create inventive ways of doing it: photoshop, diving off a plane and recording it, setting it as a lock screen on a phone. Proximity is a little childish, more of a _if I touch you, I have you and I have succeeded_ kind of way of thinking. Proximity seals the deal because you can see a trophy, but when you have it in your hand, that's when you truly feel successful. So I believe proximity is only a contributing factor to attraction that drives it further, that attraction is influenced by barriers, similarity, reciprocity or, as you said, familiarity."

Harry grins vibrantly and claps, Mason copying despite the fact he doesn't know what for.

"Well done, Blue," Harry praises, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"'ell done, mama," Mason speaks around a marshmallow.

Louis groans, rubbing his temple. "It's nearly three in the morning and I just conjured up an essay worthy answer running on four hours of sleep."

"They do say the best conversations are those late night ones," Harry finishes his hot cocoa, Mason following suit, and he grabs their cups, glances over to Louis' half empty one. "Are you done?"

"Oh, no, I'll bring it up to the dorm," Louis yawns, hands wrapped around the warm cup. He excuses himself for not covering his mouth.

Harry gives a small smile, gets up and takes his and Mason's cup to the kitchen. Louis watches the two year old stuff his fingers in his mouth and wipe them on the table. His face screws up in a grimace.

"Don't wipe your hands on the table, you sodding idiot," he reaches over to remove his fingers but the table is already at Mason's chin and he ducks. "You did not."

Mason giggles at the look on his dad's face and struggles to get out of the huge seat but when he does, tramples as fast as his little body can take him to the kitchen. Louis scoops him up by the waist just by the doors as Harry steps out, amused.

"Hawie!" Mason tries to reach out for Harry, struggling in Louis' arms until he lets go and the green eyed lad is putting Mason on his hip.

"I am starting to feel neglected. Please do steal Mason from me," Louis mutters, walking over to collect his cocoa before they begin their walk back to the dorms, having to tread in the snow for four minutes precisely.

Harry frowns, offended yet sympathetic. "I do not wish to steal Mason from you."

"He's known you a day and latches onto you like a leech," Louis states as he swipes the card and elbows the dining hall doors open. "It's concerning."

"Perhaps he is lonely," Harry cuddles Mason's face into his neck. "He has toys and a father but he sees the same faces and things everyday I am assuming - if your busy days are anything to go by. I do not reprobate your schedule, after all, you are a single parent and in education, but he needs new things."

Louis sighs, irked that a person he's known for merely twenty four hours, give a few, has pinpointed the reason for Mason's attachment rather accurately.

"We are flying to Amsterdam in less than two months for the Easter," Louis informs the tattooed lad as they trudge through the snow, his vans soaked. "He'll see his grandma and aunties, that is the most I can do."

Harry hums and they walk in silence through the rest of the snow.

When they get back to their dorm room, Louis sighs contently in the warmth, kicking off his wet vans and placing his hot cocoa on his desk which has settled to a cold. Harry tucks Mason into bed, the two year old having fallen asleep on his shoulder. Louis will have to untuck him to strap on a new nappy anyway but he lets Harry do the kind gesture.

Louis pulls on a pair of fluffy socks, a baby blue colour, and watches as Harry takes off his shirt and jeans, falling back onto his bed and kicking the covers down.

"How do you sleep cold?" Louis questions as he picks out a new nappy, removing the covers off Mason and beginning to unbutton his onesie.

"I do not feel it," Harry mumbles, eyes closed but still awake. He chews on his lip piercing, and the fact that Louis is somewhat attracted to it makes him want to change his psychology answer to _people who bite their lip piercings_ and walk out with a solid _F_ in the field of attraction.

He straps the new nappy on Mason, tucks him back into bed and for the second time, does the daring move of sitting next to Harry on his mattress. The curly headed lad opens his eyes slowly, expression unreadable as he focuses on Louis' every little move. The blue eyed student feels rather intimidated because the pair of eyes on his own are so intimidatingly green. Louis focuses on his bruise instead, reaching a hand out.

"Can I?"

Harry smirks as Louis doesn't wait for an answer and brushes the tip of his fingers on the purple bruise. "Do you have a kink for inflicting pain, Blue?"

"Shut up," Louis barks lightly, drawing his fingers across Harry's cheekbone delicately.

"If you want to simply touch my face, do ask. I will not deny you," the curly headed lad closes his eyes again at the touch.

Louis furrows his eyebrows in thought, fingers absentmindedly trailing up to fiddle with Harry's eyebrow piercing. "I like this," he tugs gently. "It looks good on you."

Harry smiles, eyes opening again. "That is the second compliment you have given me. I am confused on if you are courting me or are simply appreciating me."

The tattooed lad sees the way Louis grows a little bit pale, as if his neck is in a chokehold. The blue eyed boy coughs awkwardly and shuffles back the slightest. "I don't court people, romance is irrelevant."

"But you are attracted to me, no?" Harry pushes, not daring to draw his eyes away from Louis'. "Proximity - you look at me differently now that you are closer and have touched me."

Louis rolls his eyes but so obviously swallows down the knot in his throat. "I don't look at you differently. I look at you as the asshole who ducked out for two weeks without so much of a notice. I needed you to change the bed sheets and you weren't here."

Harry exaggeratedly gasps, playfully shoving Louis by the shoulder. "Is that why you let me stay here? To remove a pee stain?"

"Yes, you are very fucking good at it."

"That is another compliment, Blue. Albeit unintentional, it has slipped out of your unfiltered mouth. You should tone down on the swearing before Mason picks up on it."

Louis glares. "What did I tell you about telling me what to do?"

Harry chuckles, tucking his arms behind his head. "I do not recall. Right now I am pondering on what it is you find attractive about me. Is it my piercings? Is it my constant nakedness?"

The blue eyed boy wants to dig his nails in that smirk and defigure him for taking the mickey, but Harry is yapping the right lines. Yes, he is attracted, to the guy he's know for only really a day who has been gone for two weeks. That's all it is though - a mere attraction, to his tattoos, his piercings and his knack for nudity. "I'm not attracted to you."

"Prove it," Harry smirks, bare chest moving up and down as he breathes. "Do not kiss back."

Louis' stunned at the lad's bluntness, someone who shies away very easily due to the abuse he receives so forward with him, as if he knows Louis could never amount to the bullies he faces daily. Amidst his thought, a hand snakes up to the nape of his neck, dragging him down so effortlessly and encasing his lips in what feels like a bed of petals.

Louis knows Harry's got him when he can't stop himself from gripping his hands into the green eyed man's hair, or putting his knees on either side of Harry's middle, or kissing back. A large hand comes to rest on the middle of Louis' back and holds him down without any opposition, and Louis mumbles a _fuck_ out against his lips because he let - what is really - a stranger get to him. He's never kissed a guy before either - he can't believe his own fast response.

When he feels the nudge of Harry's tongue against his lips, he wants to let him in to feel his tongue piercing against the walls of his mouth, but he doesn't want to escalate it any further because the cunt is most likely revelling in the satisfaction of being right. Instead, Louis bites the cut on Harry's lip, earning a wince, and draws back. He stumbles off the bed and into his own without another word, nor one from Harry, and throws the covers over his head, internally cursing.

_Fucking asshole._

•

A whole week passes by of Louis evidently avoiding anything that issues a sentence starter with Harry. Drowns himself in psych practice, P.A. coursework and a sociology pack consisting of questions that fry and frazzle his brain. He doesn't even attempt to thank Harry when he walks out of psychology with a mighty praise for the top quality answer he gives on _What Influences Attraction?_

Whenever Mason goes to Harry's bed demanding with incoherent two year old sentences that Harry is to pick him up and play with him, Louis doesn't protest for the sole sake of not having to speak to the green eyed man. He terribly regrets it walking back into his dorm room from P.A. on the following Wednesday after picking up Mason from his dad's office and the little child is twisting Louis' guts with what he says.

"Gone," Mason stills. " _Daddy gone_."

Louis thinks Mason is referring to him, thinks he's calling him _daddy_ for once in his God damn life. He is majorly corrected when the little child is waddling over to Harry's vacant bed, tearing up and clutching onto the bed sheets.

"Mama, daddy!"

The blue eyed parent doesn't know how to respond in a situation like this. Where his son's mother fucked off and left Mason calling Louis _mama_ just because he thinks he can replace that sodding fucker and has replaced Louis' _actual_ role with someone he's only truly known for a week and a day.

He's absolutely fuming, two times more at the fact that it is Harry of all people, Harry who played him well a week ago, snagged a kiss out of him that Louis rather liked but fails to admit. Not even to Niall, his best mate who was there as Louis paced outside the hospital room during Mason's dilation.

Then he's sad too, figures that if Mason's shitty excuse of a mother hadn't bugged off, he wouldn't be confused and calling Harry _daddy_ when it's everything he's not. Mason wouldn't be spiralling into a panic attack right now and Louis wouldn't have to be giving him a dummy in a last attempt to get him to settle down.

The worst part about Mason calling Harry _daddy_ is that there's a good chance Harry's absence in the room means that he's fucked off without a notice again. Even though Harry's just someone who's been catering Mason, playing with him, making him hot cocoa, Mason sees him as a fucking _parent._ Louis squirms at that, feels sick, because his son is attached to someone who likes to just leave. Like Mason's mother, but then just like Louis himself when he was born.

Louis' freaking out as Mason is calming down, and he's swallowing down the knot in his throat the best he can when there's the rattling of keys in the door. He expects it to be Harry, that maybe he's just popped to the dining hall for a study bite, but when the person comes into view, it's his dad.

His dad who rushes to his side because Louis looks awfully pale, like he's about to regurgitate. There's a hand rubbing at his back trying to make him feel better, but it doesn't.

"I was knocking on the door but you didn't answer. You left your phone in my office. What's wrong?"

Louis inhales deeply, looks up at his dad then down at Mason in his lap on the floor. "Nothing, just having a single parent crisis."

His dad wraps an arm around his shoulder sympathetically, bringing Louis' head to his chest. "I'm sorry, bud. It's not easy. Maybe you need to rest for the day tomorrow?"

Louis shakes his head. "No, I can't miss psych, I'm already behind. Besides, it's almost the weekend."

His dad nods and guides him to his bed to rest with Mason. He mutters a, "I'll bring you and Mason dinner, don't worry. Sleep son," and then leaves the room and Louis alone, who's got anxiety rushing around in his blood and attacking his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, someone's gonna be like wow that was fast for Mason, he's only really known Harry for a week and a bit.
> 
> I didn't pull it out my ass, I know. Like, we don't actually get to see Mason fully connect with Harry yet (other than over hot cocoa) yet he's calling Harry daddy. It kinda reflects how Mason just wants a proper family, and how Harry's barely there. Mason calling Harry in this chapter is kind of a in the moment thing. The more the story progresses and the more time he spends with Harry is the more that word becomes permenant. This chapter only introduces it but it doesn't become a permenant thing yet.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it <3 Leave a comment if you may, they do ease my mind (Louis in this fic is kinda harsh and I know not everybody is okay with that and sometimes I just doubt myself and lose heart with my writing but the sweet comments you guys leave tend to lighten me quite a bit). Thank you lot for sticking around :) .xx


	7. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick ass note cause I'm rushing to get out the house for college. 
> 
> I thought since I made y'all wait for 5 days instead of like 3, I'd give you another chapter within a day :D
> 
> Enjoy enjoy enjoy <3

Harry takes the piss. He really does it in this time. _Six sodding weeks_ he's gone for, and Louis would be genuinely concerned for his education if he wasn't having a nervous breakdown over Mason's health.

There's not a day that goes by where the child doesn't suffer a fit. Louis takes him to see Dr. Parrish off campus, a half an hour walk to the clinic and the same back. The only remedy he gets is medication to tranquilise him that Louis on his future grave swears to never drug his child with. He tosses it out, disgusted, angry at Harry for oozing his way into his and Mason's lives and fucking up things without even realising.

Every time Louis attends a psych class, he can never get _What Influences Attraction?_ out of his head, contrary to before where he avoided the question because he didn't know how to answer it at all. If he could go back and give Professor Castillo a different answer, he would argue that absence drives attraction, not proximity, because in all the six weeks that Harry is gone for, his absence drives the attraction Louis feels towards him.

So much that when it's the first warmer day of the year, a Saturday in mid March, and Harry is stumbling through the door at nine in the morning, Louis' anger is overthrown by the desire to kiss him. He hasn't forgotten about the kiss they shared, just hasn't talked about it. Not even to Niall, and he would want to know, because Louis' never kissed a guy before.

Instead, Louis watches Harry walk into the room from under the covers, watches him kick off his boots and shrug off his clothes until he's all skin, tattoos and underwear and Louis sees the bruises littered over his skin. They aren't hickeys at all, they're genuine bruises that Louis has to cover Mason's eyes from even though he's asleep.

"You got nerve coming in here and stripping naked in front of my child like that."

Harry ignores him, treading off into the bathroom and running the shower. Louis isn't having it and draws Mason's fingers from his hair, the child murmuring in his sleep, and barges into the bathroom despite what state Harry may be in.

He's hunched over the sink, stood before the mirror, wiping his runny nose on the back of his hand. This close, Louis can see the dark bags under his eyes, notices the dull green colour of said eyes displayed. He goes to question Harry, but he looks up and glances at Louis through the mirror with a look that Louis doesn't want to challenge. He's a little scared out of his skin, but more pissed than anything, so he dares to step forward.

"What-"

"Get out."

Louis' jaw drops, mouth gaping as he folds his arms across his chest. "Don't tell me to get out of my own bathroom."

Harry's hands grip the sink until his knuckles are turning white, eyes dark through the mirror. "I said _get out._ "

The blue eyed boy drops his hands exasperatedly and steps the small distance between them to shove him on the shoulder and curse at him. However, the action earns the tight grip of Harry's hand on his wrist as he grabs him and backs him up to the opposite wall.

"Do not push me, Blue."

Part of Louis wants to cower away, because he's never seen Harry like this. He was never like this the last time he disappeared and came back, no, he _pouted_ when Louis took Mason from him. Now, Louis thinks he could shove Mason under his nose and his son will receive the same cold, empty look.

"Who do you think you are coming into the place I live all rotten and arctic-" he struggles under Harry's hold. "Get the fuck off me!"

"I do not like when you question me," Harry responds, dismissing Louis' demand.

"I swear to _God_ if you hurt me-"

Louis breath hitches in his throat at the way Harry's face softens alarmingly and hurt consumes it, pain washing out the bitterness in his eyes. The green eyed man loosens his grip on Louis' wrist, intertwining his fingers with his instead. Louis looks down at their hands, then back up, about to break all hell loose for the inconsiderate change of mood and lack of explanation for it.

"I will never hurt you, Louis."

It's the first time Harry says his name and it makes Louis' stomach churn. It shouldn't have any affect on the blue eyed boy, a model could whisper his name and he wouldn't feel affected in the moment, but it does, and it's Harry saying his name. Harry notices the affect it has on Louis, the way his lips part to let out a puff of air he's been holding in, the way his shoulders slouch the slightest.

Harry looks down in shame, untangles his fingers from Louis' with an apologetic look for invading his personal space and steps back. "You must be frightened of me."

Louis gulps, doesn't really know what to say, doesn't really know him, who Harry is or what he does, why he acts the way he acts or does the things he does.

"I'm going to read."

Of course in his world, the only time he finds to read is when he's been freaked out by his room mate. It feels like an anomaly to say it aloud, but he still finds himself walking away and getting into bed next to a snoring Mason, _Thinner_ in his hands. He draws the curtains before he does, figures some light and seeing dust on his picture frames will bring him back to reality, because his mind is just fuzzy.

Harry doesn't leave the bathroom for two hours, and Louis believes he's just fallen asleep on the floor at first, but when he hears the strangled sobs, he knows his guess is a mile off. He feels guilty for pushing him.

Then he walks out, and Louis wants to apologise sincerely, because his eyes are red and puffy, he's got a shake in his hands and he doesn't even look at Louis as he lays down in his bed, back to him and Mason. Louis can't get any words out, speechless and shocked when Harry covers himself with the comforter, the one thing he doesn't ever do.

The smaller boy is only able to read two more pages before his legs are taking him out of bed. He finds himself stood behind Harry who's shivering, cold. He rests a hand on his shoulder and he jolts, and Louis knows then and there that he could use a warm cuddle, so he slips in under the sheets and drapes his arms over Harry from behind.

Then Louis' getting a small, _"thank you,"_ airy and just above a whisper, hard to talk with the lump in Harry's throat from crying.

He's been cuddling Harry for a good fifteen minutes when the taller lad flips them over so that both their backs are to the wall and Harry's spooning Louis. It feels better for the both of them, but Louis reckons given the chance he'd cuddle Harry from behind again.

The curly headed lad draws him closer, the space between them non-existent. "Please do tell me if this is too close. I just yearn your heat."

Louis lightly shakes his head, comfortable, slotted and warm. "That is very intimate of you to say after knowing me for one week and one day."

"We have known each other for two months," Harry corrects him.

"You have been gone four fifths of that," Louis responds, watching Mason sleep.

Louis feels Harry's confidence deflate, feels him give space between them. "I do not ask to be."

"What do you do at your dad's company?" Louis questions, even though he shouldn't.

"I cannot tell you that."

It isn't a sufficient enough answer to stop Louis from prying into his life, but his phone is vibrating on the bedside table, ringer down. The lack of ringtone results in Mason staying asleep, and as Louis gets up to answer the call, he's glad. If there's one thing Mason likes to do when he wakes up in the morning it's bugging him for milk and Dawn of the Croods.

_"_ _Dia duit, solas na gréine."_

Louis rolls his eyes at his best friend on the other side of the line. "I don't understand what you're saying, Niall," he takes a seat on his bed next to Mason, aware of Harry's eyes glued on him.

_"I said, 'hello, sunshine.' Sorry mate, I've been in my hometown for a while. How's things over there in Boston? How's Mason?"_

"Things are good," Louis leans back on the headboard, an unexpected downpour of rain getting through the crack of the window. He groans, flips over onto his knees to shut the window and falls back onto his calves. "He's great."

_"Would you like to facetime? That rain sounds awful, I doubt you're about to get out of bed and go out."_

"God no," Louis makes a face. "It's just started raining now. Typical Boston keeping spring as wet as Mason's nappy."

Niall makes a noise of disapproval. _"Y_ _our daddy duties have turned your jokes awkward."_

Louis grips onto a pillow, mindfully envisaging dashing it at the Irish lad - he wishes he was here. "What, do you want me to substitute 'Mason's nappy' with 'leaking vagina?'"

The Irish lad sucks the air in through his teeth, as if he's touched a cut. _"D_ _on't use your son and the noun vagina in the same sentence."_

Louis chuckles at Niall's discomfort, letting go of the pillow in his hand. "Facetime later? I'll budge up P.A. coursework to now and you can snag away my evening with one of our long talks. Deal?"

_"Perfect. Talk soon, solas na gréine."_

"Yeah," Louis snorts at the repeated nickname and then hangs up the phone.

The room falls into silence. Louis can hear Mason breathing in his sleep and Harry shuffle on his bed as he sits up.

"Who is Niall?"

"My best friend," Louis answers briefly, walking over to his desk to arrange his P.A. papers.

"You are not going to eat? It is almost noon," Harry watches him carefully, analysing him.

Louis pulls out one of his stacked folders from under his desk, draws out a ball point pen from its holder and a hole puncher then takes a seat on his swivel chair.

"Mason's still asleep."

Harry stays, perched up and canvasing him even as the alarm clock flies past twelve and Mason hasn't moved an inch. At one point, during the detailed analysation of preparation in Louis' coursework, the parent lays on the floor on his back, recording every little thing down mentally about his breathing exercise. He's got his eyes closed, his body in a neutral stance, when he feels the warmth of body heat hit him.

"Not now, Mason."

"Why does he call you 'mama'?"

Louis' eyes blink open in his scare, the whole point of the exercise being to control his breathing and the shock doing anything but that.

"Why the fuck are you asking?"

Harry tilts his head at the hostility in Louis' voice, feels like if he spread his arms and put himself up for the taking, the blue eyed boy would pound him for scaring the living grits out of him.

"Tsk, do not answer a question with another question," Harry crosses his legs, the smaller student still spread out on the floor.

"Fucking Niall taught him," Louis gives in, taking in a deep breath and letting it out exaggeratedly as he looks away.

"And what?" Harry prods. "You never taught him 'daddy'?"

Louis turns to look back at Harry, glaring. "I fucking tried but the shithead still thinks I'm his mum."

"You are quite feminine," he silently asks for the whack to the chest he receives.

"Fuck off."

Louis closes his eyes, intending to proceed with his breathing exercise. He thinks the silence between them indicates that their conversation is through with and Harry has gotten up to leave, but the body heat still radiating beside him states otherwise.

"So," Harry starts, Louis snapping his eyes open in irritation towards the fact he can't continue efficiently with his coursework. "Who does he call 'daddy' then?"

Louis unwillingly makes a strangled noise in his throat and then chokes on his saliva, no choice but to sit up and in the process headbutt Harry's shoulder. He rubs his hands on his face in embarrassment and when he draws them away to lean back on them, his cheeks are flushed a cerise red.

He sighs. "You."

The student expects Harry to grimace because he's too young to have that title, and then perhaps put on some clothes and flee as he does because it's not his damn child. Instead, Louis gets a dimpled smile, and a timid laugh.

"That is very sweet."

Louis gives up on his breathing exercise, standing up only for Harry to mimic his actions like a trained dog. "I think it's a load of bullshit."

Harry shakes his head, disagreeing. "He simply yearns for another parent. That is not to say I am capable of it..." his face falls slightly, "but it is very generous that he has put me in that category."

Louis halts as he's got his hand midway to piling up his papers which is because he'd really rather wake Mason up to go and get lunch than be drenched in questions revolving around his son's knack for wrongly naming people. He turns to face the green eyed man, a somewhat genuine look on his face.

"Look, I don't know you well, vice versa, but you've still done very considerate things for Mason and I, like clean, play with him, give him your hot cocoa. It is very kind, very thoughtful, and those are qualities needed to be a parent. Once again, I don't know you well, but it is obvious that you are capable. One day, you will find someone and have a kid and you will think back to now and say, 'he was right,'" Louis laughs lightly, proud that he's lifted his room mate's mood a bit.

"You are right," Harry hums, although face now alarmingly blank. "About the fact you do not know me well."

Louis is treading over to wake Mason up when a daredevilish idea is crossing his mind, one that he knows if Niall finds out, he will be given the ear load, because as a somewhat overprotective father towards his child due - despite the way he tends to behave - to their mother walking out, this should be the last thing Louis does as Niall would say. He would think Louis is high on some form of A class drug and putting his child well at risk.

"Why don't you come to Amsterdam with me next week?"

The blue eyed parent subtly covers a hand over his mouth after saying it, _he is practically a stranger and you've just invited him on holiday with you._

"I do not want to intrude," Harry answers simply from behind him, watching as the smaller boy begins to shake Mason awake.

"I won't be staying at my mum's house," is Louis' response. "We're not on speaking terms. Mason will be there for the days and I will only be going there to drop him off, pick him up or pick up my sisters for a day out. I will be in a hotel. You won't be intruding."

Louis shouldn't expand on the invitation, should apologise for offering when it's not in his best interest but when he really thinks about it, it is. Harry is always disappearing, so if he can secure a whole holiday with him, he can obtain a whole lot of information on who he is, perhaps what he does. As the person who's going to be living with his son for the next year, it's vital he gets to know Harry, and not just briefly.

"Okay, Blue."

"Really?" _Just to be sure._ "This is so we can get to know each other better."

"Yes," Harry links his hands behind his back. "I will buy my plane ticket and I will pay for the hotel for us."

"Ticket, yes," Louis smiles fakely but playfully. "Hotel, no. What are you, made of money?"

"As we have established," Harry smirks. "I have more money than I know what to do with. It will not dent my bank account, a handful of nights in a penthouse suite, five stars."

"You are lying."

Louis wants to question why someone made of money is at a public college allowing himself to get physically bullied, but he figures he can pry that information out of him in Amsterdam.

"Let us wait and see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that each chapter is short. When I post all the chapters I have at the moment and start writing the next batch, would you guys like it to be longer? It would just mean less frequent updates. Let me know :)
> 
> Much love <3


	8. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOR THE LOVE OF HARRY PLEASE DO NOT TRY TO TRANSLATE THE MACEDONIAN IN THIS, I didn't translate it using the Macedonian alphabet but the English instead so if you try to translate it won't make proper or any sense :)
> 
> As tagged, this features a Macedonian Harry :) It's as cool as it sounds :D
> 
> LOUIS DOESN'T SWEAR AT MASON IN THIS CHAPTER :) But he's being very ignorant when Harry speaks to him.
> 
> Enjoy <3 and thank you for all the comments and kudos .x

The week goes by in a blur, Louis being wrapped up in coursework files after coursework packs after coursework drafts and he's far too busy to care that Mason has replaced his position with Harry watching Dawn of the Croods. When Mason is knocking hot cocoa all over the carpeted floor as Louis packs their suitcase to leave early the next morning, he lets Harry do the honours, and when Mason is pissing the bed again that night, it's Harry cleaning up the bed once the father and son are showering at four in the morning, flight due to leave at seven.

Harry's kind enough to pop into town given that the dining hall is closed and buy some pastry bakes that Louis especially thanks him for when his stomach starts to rumble. It's only when Louis' wheeling his suitcase to their taxi come five o'clock, struggling with Mason in his one arm and a heavy backpack on his shoulder, does he realise that Harry is empty-handed, suitcase-less.

Louis lets the driver take his suitcase and put it in the boot, then he turns to Harry, eyebrows raised. "I'm not lending you my clothes."

The curly headed lad tilts his head, his warm breath leaving clouds of white as he breathes out into the cold dawn air. The sun is due to peak over the horizon any time within the next hour. For now, the sky is a dusty mid blue, dark where the world is still asleep and light where the world is awake.

"I do not expect you to."

"Uh..." Louis trails off, eyebrows furrowed as he clutches a shivering Mason to his chest. "It's illegal to walk around naked in public."

Harry belts out a laugh, too loud for Louis' still sleeping ears, but one that's like walking into a café and smelling the coffee beans first thing in the morning or sipping on a sugary strawberry lemonade after being drained all day.

"Amsterdam is my second most visited place," Harry responds, opening the car door for Louis and taking Mason from him for a few seconds. "I have attire situated at three different addresses. I will have some delivered to the Hotel de l'Europe."

"Huh?" Louis' mouth opens in confusion as he puts his backpack on the middle car seat once sat down and collects Mason from Harry, sitting the half asleep two year old in his lap. "The hotel my dad booked is called-"

"I have cancelled those reservations for the five star hotel I told you I would pay for."

Louis scoffs, quite pissed, just as Harry shuts the car door and he waits for him to get in on the other side to have a rant at him that he's not a charity case and he doesn't need material wealth or money to gain him happiness. However, when Harry slips in on the other side, the green eyed man is smirking in all his glory and all Louis can do is shake his head.

After the driver inputs Logan International Airport into his GPS and starts to roll the car off campus, Mason starting to grow fidgety. Louis hopes the lack of sleep will knock him out sometime during the seven hour flight to Amsterdam, because he's tired himself and cannot deal with a fidgety Mason.

"Mama..." the two year old stirs in his lap underneath the seatbelt.

"Yes, Mason?"

"Dawn cwoo," Mason struggles to turn with the seat belt restricting him, little fingers shoving at the material to no avail. "Mama, out."

"Mason, sit still. I'll download some episodes and we'll watch them on the airplane. I wish to maintain my phone battery for now so please, stop moving."

Mason is anything but happy with the response he is given, barely understanding Louis' every other word as it is. He starts to kick the back of his little Doc Martens on Louis' legs, hands balling up at his father's thighs in attempt to lift himself up.

"Mama! P'ease, mama!"

"Don't fight me on this. I've said no so be quiet and stay still," Louis tries to keep his cool but he's on the cusp of losing it. It's far too early for this nonsense.

"Mama-"

" _Mason!_ " Louis shouts.

The outburst shocks the two year old into silence and stuns Harry out of his trance through the window. The green eyed student watches as Mason starts to sniffle, then cry.

"You should not confront your child through shouting or by way of anger," Harry begins.

Louis rolls his eyes. "The brat never listens, I'll do as I please."

"Mason loves you, yes?"

The blue eyed parent ignores him, shoving a hand over Mason's mouth to muffle his cries. Mason only starts to flail his legs and kick the back of the empty passenger seat. Louis feels the abrupt need to yank his own hair out.

"Every time you yell at your child, you teach him that to be heard, you must shout and be aggressive. He will grow up to do and be exactly that, and you will cost him normality if you do not discipline him the correct way."

Louis proceeds to ignore him, stroking his free hand through Mason's hair and mumbling in the boy's ear for him to calm down. Mason is coaxed enough that he does, a broken, _"mama,"_ escaping his lips as Louis unclips the seatbelt, allowing Mason to turn so that they are front to front. Louis pats a hand on Mason's padded bum, the nappy saving the child from any toilet issues, and the two year old stuffs his hands under Louis' arms, ear to his chest, in response.

"I told you not to tell me how to raise my kid, for the last bloody time."

This angers Harry, his eyebrows furrowing and lips forming into a straight line. "Do you expect me to sit in silence and watch the way you talk to your child like he is a piece of gum on your shoe?"

"I expect you to listen to what I say and not intervene in our lives," Louis avoids his stare, looking out of the window.

Harry goes to respond but his phone starts to ring in his pocket. He slips it out and Louis catches the mere ID of _unknown_ just as Harry presses the screen to his ear. Whoever is on the other side of the line, it looks like they don't give Harry a chance to speak if the seconds that pass without his greeting means anything.

"Doaǵam," Harry finally speaks.

Louis furrows his eyebrows just as Mason lets out a little burp against his chest. He watches Harry intently, trying to understand if he's slurred his speech or is speaking a different language.

"Imam kompanija," Harry responds to the person.

It is definitely a different language and Louis wonders if it is normal that Harry is speaking to an unknown number in another language. He makes the connection that it could be Harry's dad, that the number is private because his company classified and that Harry is of a different descent. That is the most logical answer he can conjure up until he can pry the information out of the curly headed lad.

"Ne."

Mason frowns, neither understanding the language. He doesn't know a heap of English, obviously, but he is a smart two year old and _ne_ doesn't sound like _no_ to him. He frowns at Louis, confused, but the blue eyed parent only runs a hand through his hair in a silent response.

Harry starts to look quite a bit agitated at what he's hearing. He starts to shift in his seat uncomfortably but strives to maintain a straight face.

"Ne," he spits out this time.

Louis figures staring at Harry won't give him answers, so he opts to stare out of the window instead, Mason lax against his chest as he drifts off into a nap.

"Tatko, ne-"

Harry is cut off, the phone line going dead. He scoffs in disbelief.

"Who was that?"

The green eyed man stays silent for a few seconds before answering. "My father."

"Does he like to piss you off as Mason likes to do to me?" Louis jokes, amused.

Harry, on the other hand, looks as if he wants to rip the poor taxi driver's head off. "Yes."

"Oh," Louis quietens.

"My father is a very stubborn man. Everything must be his way. He is strong-willed, as a Macedonian would be."

"You are Macedonian?" Louis questions, awfully surprised.

"Yes."

"That is cool," Louis compliments him.

"Macedon was known for their wars, Before Christ. It was a great empire that fell. In the end, war did not save it despite the undefeatable Alexander the Great. My father believes he is also undefeatable. I reckon one day his 'empire' will fall."

"It seems like that's what you want."

"It is what I need."

•

The take off is largely uncomfortable for Mason. He cries at the vibrations running through his body and screams at his ears getting blocked. Louis quickly receives helpless glares from nearby passengers, but some faces drop when they see Harry, the tattoos on his arms and neck showing and the metal of his piercings shining under the light streaming in through the airplane windows. In that moment, Louis is grateful that the attention is no longer on him because honestly, he doesn't like the staring.

They've been served a meal when Louis catches sight of the tattoo running on the inner part of Harry's bicep. The writing is terribly small, the reasoning behind why Louis hasn't noticed it until now. The blue eyed boy is not a nosey person at all, at least he convinces himself so. Harry catches him staring, then smirks.

"You stare at me as if I am a figment of your imagination that will vanish if you blink."

Louis snaps out of his trance, looking him in the eye. "I honestly thought you were."

Harry runs his tongue piercing over his lip, saliva leaving it glistening. Louis doesn't scold himself for staring a second too long but feels like he should.

"Are you trying to admit that I am so handsome, it is unbelievable?"

Louis swats him on his arm lightly then turns to Mason sat by the window to feed him a little spoon full of soup. "Don't get cocky. Do you lack attention in your life?"

"Hey," Harry pouts like a child. "That is not nice."

"As intended, and I was staring at your tattoo."

Harry scans both his arms only to look back at Louis. "Which one?"

Louis rolls his eyes, poking the tattoo he's become intrigued with and using the opportunity to purposely pinch Harry.

"Ow," Harry winces. "Will you admit that you have a kink for inflicting pain now?"

"No, because I do not. What does the tattoo mean?"

"I cannot say," Harry responds. "It is in Macedonian, if you were wondering."

Inside Louis' head, there's a voice screaming at him to prod further because this is the kind of juice he needs to squeeze out of Harry to know him better. However, he turns to feed Mason the last few spoon fulls of his soup instead of questioning further.

"You know," Louis starts, picking up a cracker and a piece of cheese. "All I need is a closer look and I can translate that and find out what it means."

"You are very daring," Harry comments, nicking the piece of cheese out of Louis' hand and eating it. Louis scoffs, taking a chomp out of his cracker. Flakes fall onto his lap and he receives a down right look of disapproval from Harry. _Neat freak._ "You would have to get really close."

"Is that not what you want?" Louis sarcastically flirts in response.

"I am rather content with this cheese in me, thank you very much. I do not yearn for you."

"One, I'm offended, you yearned for my warmth the other day," Louis states. "Two, you don't look like someone who likes having something in you and definitely not a cock up the ass."

"You have very explicit vocabulary," Harry chuckles. "I am not. It was a mere joke. Do not be distraught about it."

Louis chews on a grape, humming in response. He looks to Mason to check on him. The little boy is too engrossed in his cartoon to eat the strawberry flavoured yogurt before him. Louis turns back to face Harry and sees him reading a book, _his_ book, and Louis thinks it's acceptable to want to shove a toothpick up where the sun don't shine for him.

•

_"Dia duit, solas na gréine."_

"Still in Ireland?" Louis drops his suitcase onto the pricey throw decorating the king sized bed.

_"About to leave, actually. You know Amsterdam is a regular for me. I've always visited with you, and I come occasionally without you to visit Dua. Well, she reached out and informed me of this really huge party that's going to go down in a few days."_

"Niall," Louis draws out. He hasn't been to a party since Mason and he doesn't intend to go to one now.

_"No, hear me out. It's going to be hosted in Monnickendam, a boat party. It's fucking huge, Louis. The kind of party you need to feel young again."_

Louis sighs, picking out an outfit for the evening. The time difference means that he'll be up all night so he may as well go out to a restaurant, get some dinner and perhaps make a trip to see Dua. She'll be up late, that little party animal.

"I am not going to a party, Niall. End of."

_"Well you have to. It's hard to gain entry and Dua has done exactly that. She would be pissed if you didn't attend."_

Louis groans, his chances of getting out of this slim. Dua would murder him if he didn't have Mason to care for, but only because from what he has heard about Monnickendam, it genuinely is hard to get into parties held there. They tend to be majorly VIP. He reckons Dua would have lost a lot of money that he's just about to dismiss like it isn't a big deal.

He's too guilty to deny.

"For fuck's sake, fine. Monnickendam is quite a ride from where we are, though," he pulls out a pair of black skinny jeans, shrugs and opts to wear that.

_"Excuses, excuses. I'll be in Amsterdam in two days. I'll meet you and we can rent a car and drive to Monnickendam. I'll see you soon,_ __solas na gréine."_ _

"Goodbye, Niall," Louis sighs, ending the call and tossing his phone on the crisp white bed sheets. Mason will leave a good pee stain on that, Louis thinks.

"You are going to Monnickendam," Harry states rather than questions as if he is processing it. "To the Monnickendam boat party?"

"Yes, unfortunately. You know about it?" Louis asks, picking out a decent top and flinging it onto the bed by his jeans.

Harry takes a seat on the bed despite his own king sized one being within the same walking distance. "I am a regular."

Louis raises an eyebrow. "I don't believe you. You're talking out of your ass."

"Do not believe me, Blue, that is fine by me," Harry shrugs, leaning back on his arms and watching Louis shuffle through his suitcase for a pair of socks. "I am forced to be there every year to maintain a reputation."

The blue eyed boy gives Harry a weird look, tossing a pair of socks over to his outfit and shutting his suitcase. Harry smirks, watching Louis gather all his clothes to his chest, then remembers why he questioned Louis in the first place, face falling.

"You cannot go to the Monnickendam boat party."

Louis turns on his heels, about to argue. He doesn't want to go anyway, but he doesn't like being told what to do. Harry, however, speaks before he can.

"Do not oppose me. I know that party better than you. It is not the kind of party with kegs and red cups."

"I don't care what kind of party it is, I am being forced to go."

Harry stands up, face blank, the kind of blank that sends chills up and down Louis' spine and leaves him freezing in his spot. The green eyed man approaches him slowly until he's towering over Louis' smaller frame.

"You will not go and I will not repeat myself."

Louis scoffs, shifting his weight from his one foot to his other. "How dare you tell me what to do?! First with my child, second with myself?! Fuck you," he spits, turning around to go to his son in the bathroom. He's drawn back by the shoulder, then Harry blocks him from walking through the door.

"If you step foot in that party, you will regret it."

Louis taps his foot on the floor impatiently, about to lose his temper. "I'll be twenty one this year. I can take care of myself."

"You have to be exactly that to get into the party so you will not be able to go already."

Louis groans, throwing his head back and feeling the urge to claw his eyes out of their sockets. "I will use my fake ID."

"It is not a teenage party. Fake ID's won't grant you entrance."

The blue eyed boy is too jet lagged to be angry anymore so he slouches his body and gives up. "You know what? I won't go. It's fine. I'm going to shower Mason and I. We're going out for dinner."

"May I come?"

"Whatever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for future chapters, I am not sure what I should tag this: basically, Harry's dad makes him do things he doesn't want to, not physically but with blackmail (all will be revealed later) as in if he doesn't do what he's meant to do, there will be consequences. What would I tag that? I feel like I should definitely tag it something. Let me know.
> 
> And let me know what you thought of this chapter :) Have a lovely day/night wherever you are and thanks for the amazing response on this fic so far.
> 
> Much love .xx
> 
> UPDATED MESSAGE: so I basically realised in the summary I wrote "boat party in Amsterdam." I meant Monnickendam stupid me, but I just changed it to the Netherlands. Just thought I would let you know :)


	9. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Again, don't translate the Macedonian, it won't make perfect sense and anything important will be revealed later. I hope you like this chapter, the good stuff is coming real soon :) Louis questions himself a bit in this, he's heaps nicer to Mason, in fact perfectly great to him and Harry can't help himself. We also meet the reason why Louis, Niall and Dua can even attend the party.
> 
> Read on, I'll stop typing now haha :)

Mason chews on a bread stick, slobber drooling down the food in the process. Louis grimaces but refrains from batting the bread stick out of his son's mouth. At least he isn't nagging him about something. Louis' stomach growls just as the waitress sets down a plate of beef steak and fries before him and an identical plate before Harry. They thank her, and Louis thanks her a second time as she leaves a small plate of fries beside his plate for Mason on his lap.

The blue eyed parent stuffs a sauce covered chip into his mouth with the fork, then looks up at Harry. "Tell me about yourself."

Harry cuts into his steak, glancing at Louis every few seconds. "What do you want to know?"

"Why does someone rich like you attend a run down college in Boston where you let yourself get bullied and do nothing about it?" Louis blurts out. He knows it's too blunt and after shoving a hand over his mouth, he mutters out, "sorry."

"Do not be," Harry chews on his food before he continues. "You are simply curious. My father made me enrol at Trinity. I had very little of a say. As I told you, he is a very stubborn man."

"And the bullying?" Louis questions.

"I do not care. I will be out of there in a year," Harry simply replies, shrugging and eating one of his fries. "May I ask you a question?"

"Shoot away."

"How has your friend, Niall, gained access into the Monnickendam boat party?"

Louis lightly shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not actually sure. It wasn't him though, it was a good friend of ours."

"Ah," Harry hums. "May I ask who?"

"Uh, her name is Dua. She's very smart. She knows a lot of people."

"Noted," Harry responds, receiving a weird look from Louis because he didn't think the curly headed lad would care enough to note that down.

"I'll be visiting her after this dinner. You can come and I will introduce you to her," Louis offers.

"That would be nice. Is she a fan of tattoos and piercings, or will she have a heart attack as you feared Mason would?" Harry jokes lightly, receiving a glare. "I only take the mickey out of you, Blue. Do not look at me like you want to decapitate me."

Louis grips onto his butter knife, emphasising his want to. He'd never, but if he had the heart to, he would. "I don't like it when you make a fool out of me."

Harry laughs, lips glistening with the sauce from the meat. He grabs a napkin and wipes it away and Louis watches every single moment of it.

"I do not purposely make a fool out of you. I just cannot help myself. You are entertaining when wound up," he receives an eye roll that must hurt Louis' eyes. "You watch me so intently like a hawk does over its child."

"I'm a father," Louis stuffs his mouth with numerous chips, uncaring of the fact he's talking with his mouth open. "It changes you."

"I am not a child, though," Harry disagrees with his own statement.

"You act like one," Louis snorts.

"Sure, I do." It's Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "You should know that I respect honesty in a way I would never respect lies. If you want to stare at my lips, I will not stop you, nor will I feel uncomfortable. I understand that I have a very nice set of lips."

"Cocky bastard," Louis wants to roll his eyes so hard that they roll to the back of his head but he's already got a little headache forming from doing it countless amounts of times already. "I wasn't staring at your lips, I was staring at the sauce on your lips."

"Same thing, no?" Harry smirks.

"How do you say 'no' in Macedonian?"

"Ne."

"Then ne," Louis smirks with the food in his mouth.

"Please close your mouth. We are in public," Harry grimaces just as his phone vibrates on the table. It's the same _Unknown ID_ and Louis kind of wants to swat Harry's dad across the face, even though he doens't know him, because he's in the middle of getting to know Harry better.

Louis decides to zone out of Harry's conversation and occupy himself with eating his meal and making sure Mason eats his. The two year old looks up with his stunning blue eyes that are droopy. He's sleepy.

"Mama, ti'ed," Mason gets out, head falling limp against Louis' chest.

"Oi, Mase. Stay awake, we are going to see Dua," Louis tickles at his arms to wake him up.

The child giggles, alert again. "Du-a."

"Yes, babe. Do you remember her? It's been a bit," Louis combs his fingers through Mason's messy hair, thumbing a hairband off his wrist and tying up the curly locks.

"Yes, mama! I 'ember!"

"Then stay awake and you can see her before grandma and your aunties tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yes, mama."

Harry looks up at this point, the call ended, and rests his phone on the table. "I apologise for rudely answering the phone, Blue. It was a very important friend of mine."

"Oh," Louis nods his head. "Who?"

"Eden."

•

"Masie!"

The two year old is swept up into the brunette's arms and twirled around in the air. He erupts into a fit of giggles, little hands cupping Dua's face as he falls back against her chest. She attacks him in kisses.

"Ah! I've missed you!" She blows a raspberry in his neck. "Oh, how you've grown!"

Louis can't help but smile seeing his child so happy as he steps into his good friend's house. "It's been nearly five months if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, too long," Dua stresses, eyes finally landing on Harry who takes a cautious step into the house. She smirks, "who is this?"

Louis hates introductions, really, but he sucks it up and gets it over and done with. "Dua, this is Harry, my room mate. Harry, this is Dua, my good friend. Now, let's have a glass of wine," he makes his way through the familiar house to the bar in kitchen. "Dua, do you want a vodka tonic? I'm sticking to something lighter because I have Mason. Maybe a Chardonnay."

The brunette - who's giving Harry a quick overview of her ground floor, awfully chipper and vibrant - peaks into the kitchen quickly. "You know it," then she wanders off again to resume talking to Harry, Mason in her arms.

Louis mixes up a vodka tonic, pours himself a glass of wine and takes it to the living room where the three have come to rest. However, there's a fourth face that Louis doesn't recognise. A women with burgandy died hair and grey eyes. She looks like a Victoria's Secret model with those tan legs and perfect posture. Louis blinks away, tilting his head at Dua.

She laughs in response. "Sorry, darling. This is Eden," she finally introduces the red head to him. "Eden, this is the Louis Niall convinced to attend the Monnickendam boat party."

Louis contemplates for a second, head still tilted. He turns to Harry. "Ironic."

He misses the nervous glance Harry gives him, or the way the green eyed man sends a look to Eden as he's flopping down next to Dua, handing her the vodka tonic.

"Cheers, love."

She sets Mason down and lets him crawl over to Harry, occupying Harry away from Eden's empty stare.

"It is lovely to meet you," Eden stretches over to shake Louis' hand.

"You two," he smiles kindly. "Are you by any chance the reason why Dua, Niall and I are able to attend the party?"

He notices Harry grow uncomfortable in his seat with the way he's talking as if he still is going to the boat party. Louis' in the right mind to do exactly that as his way of telling Harry not to boss him around. It is rather childish, but Louis figures he's allowed to be that given that he won't be looking after Mason constantly throughout their stay in Amsterdam. He's allowed to act young for once.

"Oh, wholly," Eden responds. "Only two hundred people get to attend. Dua spilling her cash would have never gotten you lot a place. What can I say? I know people," she smirks. "It is not the kind of party with kegs and red cups, just so you know."

Louis raises both his eyebrows. "I know. Harry told me the exact same thing."

The red head makes an indecipherable expression, preparing to get up from the couch. "Well, I am going to get going," she plants a friendly kiss on each of Dua's cheeks, proceeding to do the same with Harry and Louis. "I will see you lot at the Monnickendam boat party in a few days.

She gives a final wave, Dua getting up to lead her to the front door.

Louis takes the chance to express his thoughts. "She is very vague."

"You did not give her a reason to spew personal details," Harry responds, resting back on the couch with Mason in his lap, tracing at the tattoos on his lower arms.

"True," Louis agrees, mimicking Harry's action.

•

_"Solas na gréine, what's up?"_

Louis flops down onto the majorly comfortable hotel bed. He glances at the clock which shows that it's four in the morning. He'll be dropping Mason off at his grandma's in a few, so it's not worth sleeping. He is a bit tired, though, and figures he can set an alarm and take a nap like Mason is.

"I have a question," Louis turns onto his side.

_"How may I help you?"_

"Well," he pauses, making sure that the shower in still running in the bathroom where Harry is having a wash. "How exactly _do_ we get into the Monnickendam boat party? Do we have to show ID? Surely that can't just be it. How will they know it's us?"

 _"Ah,"_ Niall shuffles around on the other side of the phone, coming nearer to the mic to whisper. _"We are required to get a specific tattoo from a specific tattoo artist."_

Louis chokes on his spit. "Absolutely fucking not, are you insane?"

_"Relax, mate. I know it sounds sketchy but it's just a small tattoo. A piece of writing."_

"I've never heard of a party quite like the Monnickendam one before," he furrows his brows, turning to lay on his front. "Are you playing with me, Niall?"

_"I'm not. I told you that it's extremely hard to gain access into this party. Everyone there is part of some community. If we don't get the tattoo and just show up out of the blue, Lord knows what will happen to us."_

"I don't like this," Louis gulps, running his hands through Mason's hair to soothe him in his sleep, the little boy twitching.

_"I'll text you a picture of the tat."_

Louis draws back from his phone, less than a minute later receiving a text from Niall. He opens the message and is faced with the same little scribbled letters he saw on Harry's arm and in the same exact place. He scrunches up his face in confusion then realises this tattoo as a form of entry into the Monnickendam boat party must be legit. Harry has the same indecipherable tattoo and he said he's a Monnickendam boat party regular, so it must be. Louis presses the phone back to his ear.

"What does it say? What does it mean?"

Niall lets out a nervous laugh. _"I don't know but that shit's getting tattooed on me arm."_

"You're unbelievably and dangerously a risk taker," Louis lightly laughs back, accompanied with a bad feeling in his stomach. "You and Dua owe me surface area."

_"Shush, you will only lose a little bit of skin. Anyway, solas na gréine, I will see you later."_

"Bye, Niall."

Louis tosses his phone on the bed, sighing and flipping over onto his back. He ends up reaching over to get his phone again, setting an alarm in three hours, and then thumbs off the lamp light, the room falling into darkness. The only source of light left is the white light streaming through the underpart of the bathroom door, illuminating the floorboards. The blue eyed boy sighs again, closing his eyes.

But the thing is, he can't sleep. He knows an hour has flew past him, but he still is very aware of his surroundings. Then another hour is flying past him, Harry knocked out completely in the other bed, and it becomes pointless for Louis to rest. Instead, he finds himself sitting up and grabbing his phone only to open his messages and scan the picture Niall sent him again, but he still doesn't get it.

So he doesn't stop himself from wandering over to Harry, poking him on the side to reconfirm that he's knocked out dead, and comparing the tattoos. He shines his phone light on Harry's arm, thankful that it's on show with his arm behind his head. The green eyed man's tattoo is much clearer, Louis having the glory of viewing it in real life HD, and after a solid minute, he manages to spell out the words.

_Dinastijata stilovi._

It must, must be Macedonian, if Harry's strong connection to his heritage is anything to go by. Louis feels like a bit of a prick creeping on his room mate like this, but he can't help his curiosity. He goes to write those words down in his notes to translate it later, but before he can even open the app, there's a strong arm dragging him down against the bare chest before him and as soon as he realises that Harry is, in fact, awake, he's pinned under the green eyed man.

Louis can only make out Harry's outline in the darkness, can't see his face at all, but he can feel the heat of the air coming from Harry's lips. He's aware that their entire fronts are touching, but he's frozen in his spot from the shock of being caught.

"Why do you do things like this, Blue?"

A chill runs through Louis' spine at how awfully calm Harry sounds. Any other person would cuss about being creeped on like that. The blue eyed boy gulps quietly, the feeling of his wrists being pinned on the pillow above his head making him feel rather helpless.

"I do not look at you when you sleep, nor do I search your skin for answers," Harry breathes out, lips ever so close to his jawline. "If I ever look at you, I make sure you are aware. Cannot you do the same for me?"

"I-I..." Louis breathes out shakily. "I just wanted to know what your tattoo says. Isn't the whole point of you being here for me to get to know you better and vice versa?"

"Yes," Harry responds quietly. "However, I want to know what makes you tick. I want to know what excites you. I want to know what you are like. I do not strive to strip you bare and reveal all your secrets. Why do you try to do so with me?"

"I..." Louis trails off, trying to gather his words. "I just want to know that you are safe for Mason to be around." He feels the warmth of Harry's breath hit him harder on his jaw line, the pair of lips brushing against his skin until they are leaving a chaste kiss. He shivers. "Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry lets out a low grunt from the back of his throat, drawing his lips away. "I do apologise. I cannot get your lips out of my head."

"Oh," Louis breathes out, unsure on how he should feel about it. He's never heard that from a guy, has never been so beguiled by it from a girl. He doesn't know what to say.

"Do not be afraid to speak your mind with me, Blue. I will not judge you," Harry coaxes him, fingers in the dark coming up to switch the bed side lamp on.

The orange light illuminates the room and when Louis is finally able to see Harry, he can't help the feeling that stirs in his stomach. He feels like he's been winded, the sight before him splendid. He doesn't think he will get used to the curve of Harry's lips or the mossy green of his eyes that are dark before him.

"I don't know what I'm thinking," Louis responds, and if his wrists weren't pinned down, he'd reach up to fiddle with Harry's eyebrow piercing as he did before. The thought leaves him feeling uncomfortable.

"Has a man ever told you that before?" Harry asks, eyes never once leaving Louis'. "Has a man ever pinned you down like this? Not for the upper hand in a fight but simply because he likes the look of you under him?"

It affects Louis, every single word that leaves Harry's mouth. It muddles up his thoughts, makes him question his sexuality in all honesty. He's never had someone talk to him like this, never had someone shake him up like this.

"Do not be afraid to tell me no. I will not take you for granted," Harry soothes him, fingers coming up to brush away Louis' fringe. "Do not be ashamed."

Louis gulps, visibly shaking underneath him. When Harry notices it, he frowns, face akin to Mason's when he doesn't get his milk, except there's hurt in his eyes. "Are you afraid of me, Blue?"

The blue eyed boy wants to laugh. Given his history, he can't bring himself to be afraid of anything anymore, and he's definitely not afraid of Harry, but more so the feeling he is experiencing. Like a rush of euphoria and all Harry is doing is speaking words to him.

"No," Louis gets out, but that's it, and Harry takes it. He lets go of Louis' wrists, falling onto the bed beside him and gripping him from behind, latching onto him like a leech.

"Do not do that again, yes?"

Louis nods because it's all he can do. He wants to climb back into his own bed and snuggle up next to Mason, but he feels glued down, back to Harry's front. He passes the moment as an exception, figures it'll be okay to sleep for forty five minutes in Harry's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omd, when I come back to edit these pre-written chapters, I forget what I have written so when I was editing this and that moment at the end happened, I was quaking myself. I almost, a l m o s t forgot to update today but I remembered :D
> 
> Really hope you enjoy this. Definitely let me know.
> 
> On a personal note, I am struggling at bit with myself at the moment, with friendships, my health. I've been really out of character I guess and I don't know why. I don't feel as whole hearted when it comes to my fics. I'm hoping it all passes because I love writing for you guys, but if an update is ever too late, feel free to message me on my fan account on Instagram: @harrymarriedin and I will surely explain. 
> 
> Thank you ever so much for reading and bearing with me <3


	10. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, another short one. I do apologise, it's just how I wrote it at the time. I will probably somewhat double update by updating tomorrow (don't think that's a double update really haha). Anyways, we're only about three chapters away from the new batch of long chapters so don't be too mad :) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy and thank you for the responses <3

The morning does not treat Louis well at all. Not only does he feel nauseas when coming to eat breakfast, a flu creeping up on him, but when he drops Mason off at his mother's for the day and is muttering a goodbye to her, he receives a very cold glare. Nothing much has changed, but it leaves him feeling more bitter than it usually does.

He knows it's time to mend their relationship, get a grip on himself and apologise because he hasn't done so yet. However, he's too stubborn. Always has been and always will be. So instead, he sucks it up and forces an unreturned smile onto his face and does the same thing when he returns in the evening to pick the two year old up.

He goes to sleep that night feeling a little bit better knowing he will get to see Niall tomorrow. He doesn't question Harry's absence in the room that night too much either. He believes that Harry is familiar with Amsterdam, guesses that he must have family here. The room feels a little bit empty with just him and Mason there, when that used to be all he needed to feel content, but he pushes the thought out of his mind and the feeling out of his chest and finally falls asleep along with the night.

He thinks he has his sleeping schedule in check again, only to wake up and it be three in the afternoon. He internally curses at his carelessness, today being the day where he was meant to take his sisters out and spend some time with them before Niall gets here and whisks him off to Monnickendam. He apologises to each of his sisters over text, explaining that his sleeping pattern is off and that in a few days he will drop by to pick them up and take them out. For now though, he gets into the shower as Mason stays occupied with Dawn of the Croods.

Louis' greeted with the sight of an exhausted Harry with Mason when he steps out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. He wants to not hint it, the fact that he's never liked Harry's knack for disappearing, but he accidentally grimaces, not even realising it.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Harry slurs out due to his tiredness.

"Like what?" Louis dumbly questions, walking over to pick out an outfit from his suitcase on the floor.

"With such distaste, like you do not approve of me leaving and coming as I please."

"That's because I don't," Louis scoffs, grabbing a pair of underwear. "Please turn around."

"We are of the same kind. You do not need to shy away from me," Harry smirks limply.

"I am not," Louis grunts. "I simply don't want you looking at my naked ass."

"It will happen one day," Harry smiles smugly, flipping over on Louis' bed and hiding his face in one of the pillows.

The blue eyed boy takes the opportunity to dry himself and put on his underwear, shuffling a pair of jeans over his hips by the time Harry dares to peak over.

"You know, if you think the cockiness will make me fall for you, you're wrong."

"Who said anything about falling?" Harry grins, sleepy eyes sparkling. "I am simply cocky because I like to wind you up. I would like to think that I succeed every time."

Louis rolls his eyes, buttoning his jeans and zipping them up. He draws a top over his skin then pulls a pair of socks over his feet. "If your purpose in life is to wind people up, that explains why you get beaten up half the time."

Harry's smirk falters and Louis feels a little bit guilty but more proud than anything. It's harsh, but Louis blames it on being in Amsterdam. The place is persuading him to let loose. Harry gets up, face undreadable, and steps towards him. His eyes still have that sparkle, as if he's about to do something mischievous.

"Harry, what are you-"

Louis is tossed over Harry's shoulder and thrown down on the bed. The blue eyed boy starts to laugh, even more so when Harry grabs his ankles and pulls him down, crawling over on top of him. Harry's knees come to rest at the sides of Louis' thighs, and his elbows at the sides of his head. Louis receives a face full of curls and blows the strands out of the way only for them to fall back down.

"You are very cute."

Louis childishly sticks his tongue out and takes the full blame when Harry bites down on it, stealing the opportunity to connect their lips in a wet kiss. The blue eyed boy is stunned, fails to close his eyes resulting in his vision going blurry until he does. He frowns. The first time Harry kissed him was purely to prove that Louis wouldn't be able to stop him. Now, it's simply because Harry wants to kiss him. Part of Louis feels flattered, but his other half gets the better of him, and he doesn't kiss back.

He needs to talk to Niall about how he's feeling. On if it's okay to be confused, because he barely knows Harry and has never felt merely attracted to a guy before. The green eyed man pulls back, eyes pained and face guilty.

"I am sorry," he breathes out.

"I don't know you, Harry," Louis speaks apologetically. "I've not let anyone in since Mason."

"I do not ask for you to let me in," Harry scans his face. "I just yearn to have you kiss me. It is simply platonic. I do not plan to court you, I just wish to feel you."

Louis contemplates on it, glad that Harry has used the word _platonic._ His worst fear is to have someone become attached to him and himself become attached to them romantically. If it's solely platonic, Louis can allow it. So he tangles his fingers in the hair at the back of Harry's head and guides his lips down. Their lips brush.

"Feel me, then."

The permission drives Harry into a state of bliss, lips clasping Louis' less gently than he did before. His hands grip onto the boy's small waist, fingers slipping under his shirt and feeling the bare skin. Louis tugs on the curly strands of hair between his fingers, body arching up into Harry's touch. It's divine, the kiss and the way Harry spreads his hands all over him, his stomach and happy trail to the dip of his lower back against the mattress to the curve of his collarbone. The metal in Harry's tongue runs against the roof of Louis' mouth, and the hoop on his lip gets sucked in and wettened with saliva. Louis moans.

"Yuck, mama," Mason loses interest in his cartoon. "Mama, yucky. No, mama. Mama!"

Louis drags his lips away from Harry's, snapping his head towards Mason and panting. He comes to his senses, throwing his head back, sighing and lightly swatting Harry off him. The green eyed man smirks.

"I'm sorry, Mase," Louis picks up his son who wraps his arms tightly around him.

The two year old glares at Harry. "Mine. No touch mama."

"Hey," Louis chuckles, patting the child on his bum. "Don't be rude."

"Sowwy, mama. No like daddy touch you."

The air in Louis' throat gets caught and his heart stops for a good second. His son hasn't referred to Harry as that since the green eyed man went away for six weeks. He feels awkward in his skin, and just as nauseas as he did when Mason said it the first time. He looks down at the pair of baby blue eyes looking at him, then at Harry who's face is blank, emotionless.

Louis looks away, gets up and puts on a pair of vans, back to his son and Harry. He grabs a wool lined jean coat, shrugging it on and begins to pack a backpack with a couple of nappies, a pack of wipers and Mason's toys.

"Mama," Mason looks upset. "I 'set you?"

Louis sighs, picking out one of Mason's little pairs of Doc Martens and a similar jean coat to his out of their suitcase. The little boy starts to tear up, struggling to get off the large bed and padding his little sock covered feet over to Louis.

"Mama," he cries. "I sowwy."

The blue eyed parent can't help but give in, cupping Mason's face in his hands and kissing his forehead. "Don't apologise, monkey. You did nothing wrong."

"I 'set you, mama," Mason states, tears falling. "Forgive I, mama. Mama, I lob you."

Louis cracks a smile at his son's awful grammar, holding him against his chest. "I love you too, baby. I forgive you. Come put on your shoes for me. We're going to see uncle Niall."

"Nell?" Mason sniffles, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Yes, Mase," Louis strokes his curly hair. "Nell." He looks up at Harry who hasn't moved. "Would you like to come?" He asks awkwardly.

"I will remain here for the night," Harry answers quietly, getting up to plop down on his own bed.

Louis nods, getting Mason sorted and leaving the hotel room without another word.

•

"Mazzie! My little frog."

Louis watches as his two year old runs up to Niall in the restaurant, his best mate picking his child up and swinging him around in the air akin to how Dua greeted him.

"Nell! Miss-ed you," Mason kisses Niall's cheeks, being brought down onto his lap as he takes a seat in the booth.

"I missed you too, Mazzie. Have you been looking after mama?"

"You cursed bitch," Louis curses, scoffing as he sits down in the booth. "You need to correct him because he never stops calling me that."

Niall rolls his eyes, facing the child. "I meant, have you been looking after daddy?"

"Daddy?" Mason replies, confused. "Daddy otay, he no come."

The Irish lad raises his eyebrows, immediately looking to his best mate for answers. "Did you meet someone?"

Louis sighs. "Dad dropped a room mate on me."

"How does that work out?" Niall grabs a menu, practically drooling at the options. "Your room mate would have to be a guy..." The blonde makes the connection and gasps. "Are you getting it up with a guy?"

"Niall," Louis glares, grabbing his own menu. "I'm not 'getting it up' with anyone. You know how I feel about it after Mason, and I have never been attracted to a guy before."

"So you admit you are attracted to him?" Niall smiles smugly. "What's his name, other than 'daddy'?"

"Harry," Louis grimaces, "and please don't make jokes. I'm not comfortable with Mason calling him that. I barely know him, which is why we've come to Amsterdam together."

Niall's jaw drops. "You're telling me you've come here with someone you barely know? I am so proud of you, taking risks like you used to," he grins.

"Don't get your hopes up. Taking risks fucked me up, Niall," Louis scans his eyes over the menu. "Mason, what do you want? Would you like some pizza?"

"Yes, mama!" Mason bounces on Niall's lap, and Louis gives his best mate a look saying, _see, I told you._

"You should of told me this Harry guy was coming. I could have got Dua to book another appointment with the tattoo artist we're going to visit tomorrow "

"No need," Louis snorts. "He's a regular."

Niall raises his eyebrows. "Small world."

"I'm starting to think so," Louis agrees, kindly giving his order to the waitress that comes to serve him. "You know it's not a regular party with kegs and red cups, right?"

Niall laughs, Mason mimicking him. "Who would Dua be if she got us into a high end party with exactly that?"

•

When Louis gets back to their hotel room at eleven with a sleeping Mason in his arms, half of him expects to see Harry in his bed or taking a shower or something. The other half of him is not surprised to see that he is gone again. However, whilst tucking Mason in under the comforter, there is a chime coming from Harry's bed side table. Wherever the green eyed man has gone, he must have left in a haste because he's left his phone.

Louis imagines the taller lad stumbling over his feet trying to leave the hotel room quickly and laughs quietly, switching on the television and surfing through the channels. He tosses the remote onto the bed and is about to flop back on it when he hears Harry's phone chime again. He figures it wouldn't hurt to nose about and so takes a seat on Harry's bed, grabbing the phone off the side.

He is greeted with _message from: unknown (2)._ It's probably Harry's stubborn father of a person texting him. Louis doesn't think it will hurt trying to attempt getting into his phone to snoop, but when he swipes the screen, he is asked to enter in a worded password. He groans, because those are the worst. However, he refuses to give up there, doesn't even care that Harry could walk into the room at any moment.

He opts for _Blue,_ just to flatter himself at most, but he is not granted access. He doesn't want to go out on a limb and type in whatever comes to mind - he is smarter than that. So he starts to ponder, tries _Eden_ but to no avail. He contemplates further, typing in _Beethoven,_ one of Harry's tattoos dedicated to the musician. It's a complete fail, so Louis tosses the phone back onto the bedside table, giving up.

It's only when the clock ticks past twelve and he's in the middle of an Amsterdam cook show rerun does his mind strike with an idea. The possibility of Harry's password being the indecipherable tattoo on his inner bicep that Louis will be finding himself getting tomorrow, is rather high. The only problem is, he cannot remember the letters clearly. So he's left spending twenty mintues of his life he will never be able to get back picking out the letters. One of the _i'_ s that he gets could potentially be a _j,_ and one of the _w_ 's he gets could just be a _v._ He's pushing his luck, picking Harry phone up again and attempting to crack the code.

On first try, it doesn't work, so he substitutes the _i_ for a j. He is greeted with total failure, so he resorts to changing the _w_ to a v. _Dinastijata stilovi_ , and he figures, if it doesn't work, he's just missed out on how to cook stroopwafels for absolute bullshit.

Except, he hasn't. He doesn't believe it, but he hasn't. He's faced with apps before him and he wastes no time in opening Harry's messages before he walks in and Louis is screwed. He opens the green eyed man's conversation with _unknown_ , and if he isn't mistaken, it's all in Macedonian. He sighs, walks across the room to get his phone and open translate and begins to translate the entire conversation starting from early that evening.

He shouldn't snoop, it's so wrong, and when he reads what he does, he doesn't know how to feel. He doesn't know if it was better not to break into Harry's phone or if it's vital he reads what he does.

_There are seven new pros we need you to test out._

_Father, no. Not now._

_Do not deny me. Additionally, we have produced a new batch that I need you to test on Otto_.

_Please, father, no._

_Stop with the pathetic begging, child. I raised you better than this. You are needed in Marken, underground. Eden will occupy the sellers by showcasing our most expensive pros, however, we will not sell them. Do not exceed three hours in the time that it takes you to get here. You will cost us a lot of money._

_I do not want to test right now._

_You have no choice son, you signed a contract._

_Five years ago. I will break it, father. I am tired. I want to be normal._

_Read 20:01_

_You will go to jail._

_We are waiting._

_Eden has prepared the pros._

Louis cuddles up next to Mason, the largest lump in his throat and the worst kind of feeling swimming in his gut. He doesn't know who Harry is, or what he does, or what _pros_ means, but he knows Harry's in Marken away from Mason and himself, and while that should allow Louis to sleep that night, he doesn't once close his eyes. He'll pack Mason a bag in the morning, drop him off at his grandma's and find the nerve to confront Harry without putting Mason in harm's way, but it will put himself right in the middle of exactly that, because if he hasn't got it wrong...

A criminal could walk through that door at any moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :) The truth is coming out hehehe ;)


	11. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise :D hehe, so I was planning to update tonight but I got really tired quickly so I fell asleep but loud noises woke me up and I felt energised enough to proof read this chapter and update.
> 
> Awww thank you guys for the comments and kudos and everything so far on this <3 This chapter is longer than usual. It's not the start of the long batch of chapters, that starts around chappie 13 but it's definitely longer than usual.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :) The truth comes out ;)

Louis feels ill coming back from dropping Mason off and knowing that Harry hasn't come back yet. That he is unable to rip the truth from the green eyed man like a band aid off a wound, that his translating app screwed him over and he can't prove it. He leaves to meet Niall and Dua with vomit in the back of his throat, and as he gets the exact same _dinastijata stilovi_ tattooed under his collarbone in a run down tattoo shop by a questionable man, he wonders if attending the Monnickendam boat party is a good idea.

It is a terrible idea, if the _eight pros, Monnickendam, BP, 12am,_ on Harry's phone when Louis pit stops that evening to get dressed means anything. It's so clearly a reminder, a demand, but the fact that Harry's father is texting his phone when Harry should be with him in Marken means that he's left already, but hasn't gotten back to their hotel room yet.

Louis' guts stirs, and as he takes a shower, he finds himself washing quicker, drying himself quicker and dressing himself with the same haste. He leaves, glancing at the green eyed man's phone on the way out as if it's a ghost. He plasters on an okay face as he gets into their rented car, Dua behind the wheel.

"Don't get too wasted tonight. Neither of us will be able to pick Masie up later," Dua looks at him through the mirror.

"It's what I need," Louis mumbles into his hand.

"I don't believe it," Niall grins. "You have converted, you're no longer a debby downer. I'm so proud of you, and Dua, it's Mazzie."

"Shut up, Masie is far better," the brunette slags him off as she rolls the car onto the road.

"Yeah, put a bow in his hair," Niall responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Can we please stick to calling my child Mason or monkey? I don't mind, either one," Louis stretches out over the back seats, instantly regretting it as he almost rolls off when Dua drives over a bump.

"Get your dick out of the piranha vagina it's in," Dua responds, laughing at Louis' fall. "Or should I say, get the stick out of your ass."

Louis' mouth drops and he turns to Niall, screw facing him. The blonde has nerve spewing his every secret to Dua, even though she is their good friend. He would rather her not view Harry as the person he's getting it on with, but just as his room mate. A terrible, secretive room mate.

"Don't look at me like that. I had to tell her you were hitting it up with your room mate."

"He is very hot," Dua responds, remembering him from their first greeting. "I never expected tattoos and piercings to be your type, let alone tall, green eyes and oh, I don't know, _dicks_."

"It's not," Louis groans.

"Yeah," Niall snorts. "That's what you say but solas na gréine, once we board that boat at nine, we won't get back to the port until four. You will be surrounded by hot guys for hours. You won't be able to help yourself and when I catch you hitting it up with one, I will rub it in your face when we wake up to the biggest hangover ever."

•

They successfully board the Monnickendam boat at 9, the inquisitor at the port creepy as hell as Louis mutters to Dua and Niall after having their _dinastijata stilovi_ tattoos validated. On deck, asides from the red cups substituted for glasses of alcohol, it looks somewhat normal. People drinking up and having toasts, music blaring and when a tray of shots float past Louis, his eyes stay locked on it until he's picking one out. He brings the shot glass up to his lips, downing the vodka and scrunching up his face.

"Slow down, darling."

He turns to face what he thinks is Dua speaking with a terrible accent but he spots her off getting a glass of expensive wine, Niall hanging by the boat railing, already hooked in a conversation with a tanned girl. Louis is faced with the same Eden Dua introduced him to days before, so he smiles at the familiar face.

"Hi," he mutters embarrassedly.

She slowly flips her auburn hair over her shoulder, offering an arm for him to link with. Louis figures it wouldn't hurt him to be led around by her, so he complies.

"We do not get wasted in the first hour, my love," she laughs, grabbing a glass of red wine off a passing tray. "We take sips," she demonstrates it by swallowing down a little bit of the wine.

Louis' mouth forms into an 'o', aimlessly looking around. It will be okay to leave Dua and Niall for a bit, as long as he isn't left on his own. There are so many strange faces on this boat and he hasn't even gone downstairs yet. He doesn't think he can when he sees the stairs gated off, a bodyguard opening it for certain people and declining others.

"Let me introduce you to Lachlan, the one over there by the bar," Eden points over to a tall, bulky man, a good foot and a bit taller than Louis, with slicked black hair and in a suit that screams _Burberry_. "Lachlan keeps an eye on the upper deck and gets to know everyone occupying it. When we dock at four, he'll contain the names and information of everyone on the upper deck. Do not be frightened by the idea, it is simply so that each year when we hold the Monnickendam boat party, we know who we have invited on board."

It's not the most believable explanation at all but Louis doesn't get a chance to pick out its flawed layers as he is being greeted by Lachlan, his hand being brought up into a kiss. "Hello. Who may you be?"

"Uh," Louis blinks away from the lips that were just on his hand, awkwardly coughing and shaking out the tingles that runs through his body. "I'm Louis."

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lachlan. Are you French?" Lachlan stares at him with intense blue eyes.

"Haha, no," Louis shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm British but I'm registered as an American citizen 'cause I live there instead."

The man nods his head, the small pause of silence signifying that he has noted that down in his brain. Louis twiddles with his fingers.

"You are nervous. Do not be," the man reaches over the bar side, being handed a glass of wine and offering it to Louis. "Eden, you are dismissed," he waves the red head off. "So, what do you know about this boat party?"

Louis stops half way to taking a sip of his wine to chuckle. "That it's not a regular party with kegs and red cups. However, from what I've seen, this is standard."

"But you have not seen downstairs yet," Lachlan smiles, sipping on his own glass of alcohol. "I will give you a tour once you have let loose a bit. Downstairs is quite the sight."

Louis smiles a little, mostly weirded out. "I'd lose my sense if I didn't have a son to look after tomorrow morning."

"How old are you?"

"Uh, twenty," Louis answers shyly. He doesn't like getting judged because he has a son and he is so young. "It's not as terrible as it seems. I had Mason just before I turned eighteen."

"I do not judge you," Lachlan smiles genuinely. "I see no need to. Finish your glass of wine. I wish to take you downstairs immediately."

"Oh, um-" he's linked by the arm and finds his feet walking. The best he can do is down the rest of the wine in the glass and discard it on one of the many trays passing by.

Lachlan leads him to the stairs, gives a mere look at the bodyguard and Louis finds himself descending down the steps beside the man. The first thing his senses pick up is the purple light and the shining of numerous metal poles occupied by countless women in thigh highs, platform heels and with barely any clothing on. The air gets trapped in his throat because one, he has never been amongst anything akin to a strip club and two, it's on a freaking boat.

"Have you not been around naked women before?" Lachlan smirks, leading him further into the room.

There are so many men leaned back on chairs, enjoying the show and tossing money at them. It's not Louis' kinda jam, himself from a couple years ago would have preferred a private show. Then he sees the many curtains dotted around each side of the room and the part of him belonging to before Mason arrived howls like a beast.

"I've never been to strip club," Louis answers simply, in awe at the room.

"This is not just a strip club," Lachlan informs him, slowly leading him past the many men to a set of double doors on the opposite side of the room.

The minute they step through, the light becomes a dim yellow, and the sound of men yelling compliments die down into whispers, the sound of content groans and sniffing filling Louis' ears. Louis glances around seeing countless amounts of people lining up cocaine on tables, snorting it up, and people inserting needles into their already bruised arms. He's familiar with this environment, used to hang out with a bunch of crack heads before Mason despite his young age. He never touched anything apart from weed, but he can't help but be amazed at how much cocaine and heroine and _drugs_ fill up this room, in packets and in injection tubes. There is millions of dollars in this room.

Lachlan brings a hand up under his chin to close his mouth. "I would let you snort some cocaine but you have a child to return to come dawn," he lightly pisses him off. "Let me lead you to another room," he guides Louis past the druggies, coming in contact with another set of double doors. The boat is huge, as expected for the Monnickendam boat party. Louis' blinded by bright, white lights.

When Louis sees what he sees, he feels sick. He wants to bolt back through the rooms, get on deck and jump the railing with Dua and Niall, but he does not trust his legs, nor what Lachlan is capable of. The man chuckles, not at all holding back, humoured.

"Oh, do not be frightened. These are our pros," he gestures to six females and two males lined up behind a glass wall in a square room with no windows, all naked. "They are obedient so we do not keep them in chains but-"

"Lachlan."

Louis knows that voice despite its knack to disappear all the time, and even though the blue eyed boy is turning around to face a potential criminal, he'll feel safer standing next to Harry, who's dressed in all black, more than he feels safe being linked to Lachlan. The look on Harry's face is the blankest Louis has ever seen it, and his green eyes are mainly consumed with his pupils, only a strip of green showing. Louis can visualise the steam coming out of his ears.

"You do not have permission to be in this section, Lachlan. Nor do you have permission to escort upper decks down here."

Lachlan visibly grits his teeth, then smiles smugly. "I have full permission, Styles, from your father. Do not think that his absence tonight grants you full leadership. You still have these eight pros to test, who will run this boat whilst you do so?"

Louis' brain is making sense of this all too quickly, but at the same time, he cannot process anything. All he can do is stare at Harry, shame in the curly headed lad's eyes, and part his lips in attempt to steady his irregular breathing.

"Get out of my sight, Lachlan. I will lose my temper," Harry warns, blank face never faltering once. "You," he looks at Louis. "Stay."

If Louis could get a word out of his mouth, he would argue how much he doesn't like to be bossed around, one of the reasons why he's found himself here tonight. Oh, how he regrets it.

"As you wish, Styles. I do have a duty to fulfil, as do you. Please return Louis to me, I was getting to know him," the man smiles innocently. "Personally, I think pro three would be a good first fuck," he smirks, not wasting any more air and leaving Louis alone with Harry.

Louis can feel his early dinner coming up to the back of his throat. He's trembling, and when Harry takes a small step towards him, he takes a large step back.

"I told you not to come, Louis," Harry speaks, reaching out for him. Louis curls into himself, avoiding Harry's touch. "Do not cower away from me. I will not hurt you. I want you to come with me."

"No," Louis gets out, breathing erratic.

Harry sighs, not willing to argue. "Do you wish to speak before a line of prostitutes or do you wish for privacy?"

"I don't trust you," Louis speaks, voice just above a whisper.

"But I trust you, so I will walk into this room first and I will allow you to handle the door. If you want to run, you may run," Harry starts to walk towards the door to an empty room. "I trust that you want an answer as much as I want to explain."

Louis has never been faced with such a decision in his life before. Every part of him screams to run, the logical part to the sane part, but the risk taking part he buried years ago yells for him to follow the green eyed man. That part of him has been pretty dominant tonight and it has landed him exactly here, where he has to decide to run from the truth or listen to it.

His mother would never look at him the way she used to again if she found out he ran from something, _again_. So he does it. With his mother in the back of his mind, he follows Harry cautiously into the cube.

He shuts the door behind himself slowly, pressing his back against it. "What are you?"

The tension between them is thick and the silence does not help. Louis would need a butcher's knife to cut it. Harry looks down at his feet, blank face breaking into one of guilt and shame. "Something I do not want to be."

"Answer the fucking question properly!" Louis spits out, hand on the door handle just in case he doesn't find himself getting out of there alive. "Don't sugar-coat it, tell me how it really is."

"I am a to-be mob boss," Harry admits quietly, avoiding Louis' prying eyes at all costs. "I fuck prostitutes and purchase the best. I am ordered to sell drugs all over the world and I partake in human trafficking."

Louis scoffs, so unbelievably fooled, so unbelievably _played_ like a card in poker. Mason was never safe with Harry, not in those thirty minutes, not ever. Louis gives props to himself for not yet running. It is not every day your room mate tells you that he is a criminal mastermind.

"You are sick," Louis swallows down his disgust, "and you've dared to bring your sickness around my father, my _child_?" He shakes his head, looking away. He can't stand to look at the liar, the _criminal_ before him.

"Do not turn your face, it is still me," Harry looks at him, eyes glazed over. He is on the cusp of breaking down. "I have not chosen to be this person. My father makes me," his voice cracks as he sniffles. It's all crocodile tears to Louis.

"You _fuck_ _prostitutes_ in order to _buy_ them!" Louis gags. "That - _that_ \- is disgusting! You're a criminal!"

"That has done nothing but cater to you and Mason. Please do not look at me differently because of the job that I have. You are breaking my heart, Blue," Harry pleads him, daring to step closer to him.

"Don't you _dare_ come near me! I will call the police!"

"Why haven't you yet?" Harry asks him, shamelessly crying as he ignores Louis' protest and takes a step forward. He has never looked so intimidating with his tattoos and piercings, has never looked so powerful even though he stands before Louis, cheeks wet, wholly losing himself.

"Is it because Mason is attached to me?" He prods, stepping closer, voice just above a whisper. "Is it because _you_ are attached to me?"

Louis gulps and looks down. He doesn't mean to look so pathetically weak, but Harry has hit a sore spot. He doesn't know how he's been feeling about him, all he knows is that right now, he feels revolted. He should run.

"Look at me."

Louis cannot bring himself to do so, the dull floor of the boat receiving his stare. Harry gently lifts his chin and the simple touch jolts Louis' system into fright, because that doesn't feel like the skin of a criminal. His hands are so soft.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you are not attached," the green eyed man thumbs at his jawline. Louis hasn't realised how close the person before him has gotten with that tearful face, or how much more unsteady his breathing has gotten. Louis can't look him in the eye.

"You are attached, Blue."

Louis is damned for not running, for not picking up his phone, for not minding his own business, for ever agreeing to let Harry live with him. It was a grave mistake. He allowed a criminal to live with him, play with his child, play with him. He can't form any words nor think correctly.

Harry tilts his head innocently, everything that he is not. "What do you want to do to me?" He is not responded to. Louis is frozen. "What do you want to do?" He whispers, lips too close.

Louis panics. Converts all his pent up anger into strength and shoves the green eyed man back until he's stumbling over his steps. The blue eyed boy loses all control of his breathing here, chest rising and falling violently. He can't bring himself to pull the handle to the door he's pressed himself up against. It's like Harry's intense stare possesses him and he can't move his legs by order, even though the man said he could run. _Run._

"Why are you afraid, Blue?"

Louis starts to cry. He tells himself it's because his body is shocked, but deep down it's because he's scared. Not of the fact that there is an actual criminal mastermind before him, but because he's kissed the pair of lips belonging to this criminal.

"Do not be afraid. I am to do you no harm," Harry speaks with that same broken voice he did before, as if Louis finding out the truth is breaking his heart.

Louis wants to scoff but all he finds himself doing is shaking his head violently in disbelief, in plead for Harry not to come any nearer to him, in fear of losing his sanity. His legs give out. He ends up sliding down the door and bringing up his knees to his face, sobbing. This has to be a nightmare that he can't wake up from.

"Do not shy away from me, I want to see your face," Harry crouches down, gently placing his index finger and thumb under the blue eyed boy's chin and lifting it.

Louis pleads Harry telepathically, screams for him to stop touching him. It is making everything all too clear and all too real and the more he realises the truth, the more he sobs as Harry brings his face up to look him in the eyes. His arms have lost all feeling, he can't shove the green eyed man away. Louis looks at him, eyes innocent, baby blue and scared. Harry looks at him with a look he's never received before, and his next words mess with Louis' heart so mercilessly.

"You are beautiful," he confesses. "I would never do anything to change that. I am to do you no harm," he repeats. "Why are you crying?"

Louis whimpers, bottom lip quivering. He prays that his mind makes it out alive, but right now, he would rather be brain dead than be able to hear the voice in his head telling him the one thing he doesn't want to hear.

"Is it because you are attached?"

A tear falls from Louis' eyes as he looks away at the repeated question. There is a timely silence that drives him insane, but any outsider would say that he lost his sanity when he decided not to run for the hills.

"Tell me, are you attached?" Harry asks quietly, resting his hand on one of the boy's knees.

Louis sniffles. _It was never supposed to happen._

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha me and my cliffies. What did you think?? Things are really getting real now. This is pretty much where things get exciting. Just as a repeated warning, please read each of the tags and make sure you're okay with them. This is where a lot of the crime related tags come in.
> 
> IMPORTANT ANNOUCEMENT:
> 
> If you don't read my fic SULK, you wouldn't know about this so I'm also letting everyone reading Mase know. Basically, Larriegal (who is the writer of Blue Ice, if you haven't read it, be a darling and read it. it's some good shit ;) and I have been talking and WE ARE GONNA FUCKING COLLAB YO and we're gonna start a chaptered fic very soon. Keep an eye out for that!!
> 
> Have a lovely day/night <3
> 
> Much love .xx


	12. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I wanted to explain some stuff. Please keep reading this message.
> 
> I've already said how this fic is out of my field, like, I've never written crime and the thing about crime is that it's hard to be realistic, which is what I've been trying to be since chapter 1 hence the fact this fic isn't all rainbows and ponies and Louis needs to change and all that shit. 
> 
> Anyways, so I don't know how you guys will feel about this chapter, especially Louis, Dua and Niall's reactions but I wrote what I thought would make reasonable sense. I also included some crime themed elements, for example, Harry goes by two names (which is cliché af but it works), and AS MENTIONED IN THE ARCHIVE WARNINGS, THERE IS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE so please be aware of that. It's a little bloody.
> 
> Um so yeah, this chapter I feel will pretty much make or break this fic. I should probably stop doubting myself but it's good to be critical sometimes :)
> 
> Anywho, I'm happy to say this chapter is the last of the short chapters, sad to say it will mean updates probably only once a week because I can't with college. I'm not sure when the next update will be, hopefully by this weekend. 
> 
> Okay, enjoy :)

"You need to hide."

Louis watches the green eyed man back away, standing up to obtain a formal posture that frightens him. The kind of posture that only a man of higher class would stand with. Hands clasped behind his back, face adamantly blank, profile tall. Not the kind of Harry that had half his body hanging off a bed.

"The Eden that you met is the Eden that works for my father and I. The whole point of the Monnickendam boat party is so that she can lure in a new selection of people for Lachlan to choose from. He has taken a significant interest in you. There is a fine chance that you will be selected and departed at Marken come three o'clock."

The look in Harry's eyes is pure dread, and he paces the small space as he spews out the truth. He looks as if he is going to lose his damn mind. Louis shouldn't have come.

"My father awaits in Marken for a batch of people to be dropped off. If Lachlan finds you, I will not be able to stop him because you have _dinastijata stilovi_ on your skin. It translates to The Styles Dynasty, whom my father leads at the moment, not I. I do not have a say in his orders. If I intervene, he will send me to jail."

Harry's growing clearly impatient with Louis' lack of movement, but the smaller boy cannot be blamed. He is in shock. He cannot process what he is hearing. It all sounds unreal.

"Please get up, Blue. I do not want to handle you and make you think of me as any more of a monster. This is not a sick joke. Come three, you will be departed and those remaining on the upper deck will be killed off as part of the procedure. You think I am disgusting? You have not met my father."

The fact that Niall and Dua are currently on the upper deck and run the risk of being plucked out for Marken or potentially killed like cattle is what gets Louis onto his feet in a haste. He is faced with the second hardest decision since Mason, all in one night. To trust a criminal, or to not?

"Where the _fuck_ do I hide on a boat?!"

Harry paces the room, a million thoughts running through his head. He grips onto his hair, pulling strands, his breathing becoming fickle. "I do not know. I do not-" he pauses, letting out a groan of frustration. He drops to his knees, on the verge of having a panic attack. "I do not know," he answers, hands against his face.

"What the fuck do you mean you don't know?!" Louis shouts, arms in the air, exasperated. "Get the fuck up off the floor! I have a child I want to go home to! I don't want to be a part of this sick game! I- I'm a _college_ student! You're a _criminal!_ "

Harry's in tears, of frustration and of guilt. Louis knows who he is now, and what he does, but at the end of the day, if he could run for the hills without the fear that his father would put him in jail for the rest of his life, he would run for that and further. He never wanted this life. He never wanted to be here.

"In plain sight," he breathes out shakily, standing up. "You will hide in plain sight. Listen to me, Blue," he grabs Louis' cheeks, his own wet with hot tears. "I am so sorry. Yes, I am a criminal," his voice wavers, "but I never chose to be. Please, _please_ believe me when I say that. I want nothing more than to drink hot cocoa with you and Mason and- and help you answer psychology questions and-" he presses his forehead against Louis', clenching his eyes shut and crying. "I am attached to you too, Louis."

Any part of Louis that wants to rip the skin off Harry for the lies, the deception, it sinks amongst the feeling of awe that he feels. He has never had someone stand before him the way Harry is, never had a woman and definitely not a man tell him that they are attached to him. To hear it from the first man he's found himself falling for who just so happens to be a high end criminal - Louis' heart stops.

For the moment, because then he is aware of the lips centimetres away from his, lips that don't look like they could belong to a criminal. So soft, inviting and of a camellia red. His heart starts to beat rapidly. He wants to kiss the lips of a criminal.

"I am still me," Harry whispers out. "I am still me."

Those lips brush Louis' left cheek, delicately trailing his skin until they come to a stop at the dip of his mouth. They hover, slightly parted, hot air fanning over that section of Louis' face. "I am still me," Harry whispers one last time before he's catching Louis' lips in a chaste, apologetic and guilt ridden kiss. It is slow, electrifying, hypnotic. Louis feels like he is on cloud nine, like his legs will give out. _You are attached to a criminal._

Then Harry pulls back, too soon, too quickly that it feels like the kiss was just a figment of Louis' imagination.

"You must hide now."

•

"Oi, Nelly, you wasted yet?" Dua cackles from the bar, fifth shot held loosely in her hand.

Niall stumbles over, ruffling her hair and slipping onto the empty bar stool next to her. He gladly accepts the shot glass he is offered by the bartender, downing it without waiting. "Ah, not even."

"The Irish," she mutters. "Nell, 'ave yourself a tonic, maybe that'll d-"

Dua is too tipsy to stop herself from being dragged off the bar stool, arm linked with someone's left, and Niall is half way to collecting another shot and doesn't realise what's happening until it's done. They are faced with none other than Louis' room mate. Dua grins.

"Hey, Harr-"

"Do not say another word. Follow me," he links his spare arm with Niall's left.

He is swift on his feet, and the two friends find it hard to tread without stumbling, the alcohol in Niall's system causing him to drop the last three steps onto the lower deck. Dua's mocking laugh gets cut short when she notices the room they are being lead into. She would admire the set up out loud but Niall is breaking out into a string of profanities, _holy_ _fuck_ _,_ _fucking_ _shit, damn fuck,_ and she was taught it's rude to talk over people. It's Christmas for Niall. They are shoved over into the midst of men. Dua recognises the fluffy head of hair and smaller frame amongst the numerous hefty men surrounding them enjoying the strip show.

"Louis?"

"Sit," Harry orders them, face intimidatingly blank. "Blend. Stay off the upper deck. Do not move until I come for you." He walks off without a further word, disappearing through the set of double doors on the other side of the room.

"Louis, what the fuck?" Dua questions, sobered up. Not just from Harry's vague words, but by the paranoid look on Louis' face.

"Please don't question me," Louis speaks quietly, eyes trying to focus on one of the women on the poles, but his eyes wander off to the door Harry left through.

"Your room mate is weird," Niall comments, stretching back in his chair. "Hella hot though."

"Niall," Dua whacks him. "Louis is clearly not okay and you're complimenting his room mate like a twat." She turns to face Louis. "What's wrong, babe?"

"I told you not to question me," he responds, glaring at her. "Please just...don't question me."

"Okay," she screw faces him, "but seriously, get the stick out of your ass."

"Dua, _please_ ," Louis looks at her tired, stressed.

"No, something's up and you're refusing to tell two of your closest friends. Niall, get the alcohol out of your system and back me up here," she glares, folding her arms.

"Dua," Louis silently pleads with his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it," he responds quietly, looking down at his lap and swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Please don't make me talk, I'm scared I'll lose my damn mind."

The brunette's face softens up. She has never seen him so in his shell, not since the birth of Mason. She reaches over to thumb at his arm apologetically and the little touch sends him spiralling into tears. She automatically grabs him in her arms and Niall sits up straight, alarmed, sobered up.

"Louis..." Niall starts, but doesn't know how to continue.

"I-I just want to go home to Mason," the blue eyed boy shakes in Dua's arms. "I just want to see my baby."

"Louis, what happened?" Niall questions, face serious. He's ready to pry the information out of his best friend. "You have to speak to us, solas na gréine."

Louis shakes his head, a handful of tears falling without a stop. "I just want M-Mason."

"Hey," Dua rubs his back. "You're going to see Mason soon, lovey. Don't be tearful. How much did you drink?"

Barely anything, but he isn't able to get that out. He feels nauseas from shock. He just shakes his head again and his two friends leave it at that, a million questions swirling through their minds but never asking him in fear that they will drive him to lunacy.

•

"We must go now."

It's been nothing but hours of watching women on the poles and hearing men shout disrespectful things towards them. The boat had stopped exactly at three, Marken. Louis heard the yells from upstairs of the people getting captured, killed, heard the epitome of sickness, but everyone there on the lower deck acted as if they could hear nothing, as if it was nothing but normal to them. It took Louis a moment to realise that he's been sat in a room full of criminals. He had tried to pinch himself out of whatever sick dream he was having, but once the boat started moving after ten minutes of agony dying down into nothing but the whimper of the last victim being dragged off board, he only ended up swallowing the fact that it was all real.

The boat stops a second time come four o'clock and the entire room starts clearing out, men latching onto strippers and pole dancers and handing wads of cash to one of the collecting bodyguards on the way. He can feel Dua realising their entire situation and he can feel Niall on the verge of passing out, but then Harry stands before them, hair dishevelled, fixing his tie, and Louis knows what he's just been doing, that he was just with the eight prostitutes now being escorted out with the last of the druggies.

The blue eyed boy looks down at his lap, swallowing down his vomit and fighting back tears. Dua and Niall get up as soon as they hear Harry's voice, but Louis can't feel his bones, nothing but his heart that feels like shards of glass has punctured it. The green eyed man frowns, crouching down and gently intertwining his fingers with Louis'.

"Blue, I..." Harry sighs, looking away shamefully. He doesn't know what to say, how to apologise. He doesn't think an apology would suffice. "We must go now," he repeats.

When Louis fails to move, fails to gain the strength to stand up, Harry resorts to picking him up, an arm under his knees and one behind his back. Louis automatically curls into his chest, face hiding in his neck. It's for the best to hide his face, because Harry doesn't think Louis will be able to keep his guts down when they step foot on the upper deck. He gives an nimble nod to Dua and Niall, then they leave in silence, the questions in their heads screaming loud.

It's expected. The way Dua loses her footing, a scream in her throat never being able to come out when they step foot on the upper deck. The realisation leaves her throwing up to the side, vomit getting into her hair. Niall can't move contrarily, and he doesn't until Harry nudges his arm forcefully. They cannot linger.

Louis doesn't dare to look, but the smell of blood is pungent and doesn't stop him from picturing the blood that must be spilled and splattered all over the deck, or the amounts of bodies that must be accompanying it.

He gags against Harry's chest. The curly headed man only rubs a small spot on Louis' back with his thumb. It should make the smaller boy feel terribly worse, knowing that he's found solace in the arms of a criminal, that he's letting a criminal hold him with care, but it doesn't, because it's still him. It's still Harry.

"Charis."

Dua and Niall halt just as they are about to step onto the docking port, hearts in their stomach. Harry pauses in his step, body turning until he faces none other than Eden. Louis refuses to look, keeps his eyes shut and tries to picture happy things like Mason and his cute little dungarees but it leads him right back to this moment, where he's blubbering words out under his breath trying to escape this dreadful reality.

He feels his body being let down, causing him to snap his eyes open and clutch tightly onto Harry's suit. He can see all the bodies in his peripheral vision, see Niall and Dua over Harry's shoulder who have lost their sense of reality, standing there silent and wordless in shock. Harry prys Louis' fingers from his shirt, watching the scared mess he's made shake in his spot. Harry's heart breaks.

"Stand behind me," he whispers. Louis obliges, hiding behind Harry's back. _None of this is real. It's just a bad dream._

"Do not call me that."

Eden stands, meters away from them, jaw clenched. "Do not tell me what I cannot call you given what you are about to do. However, _two faced bitch_ would probably do you justice."

Harry inhales and exhales calmly, locking his hands behind his back. He lets the red head step closer to them, lets her dare to push his buttons.

"You are forbidden to steal from your father."

Harry looks down quietly, the night air breezing past his face and brushing his already messy curls. Then he looks up, his signature smirk plastered on. "It is not stealing if he does not have them yet."

"Do not tempt me to put a bullet in your head, Charis," the red head threatens. "You know what my orders are and you know what yours are. You are stealing from your father."

Harry twitches at the word _bullet_ , body silently overrun with a shiver for a moment, but his posture remains and so does his shit eating grin.

"Tell father," Harry smirks, gripping a hand on Louis' wrist and squeezing, a definite signal to run when he does. "I said to fuck himself."

Harry bolts, Louis being hauled off the boat and onto the docking port. The first bullet cuts the air beside Louis' foot, Eden trying to gun down his legs so he can't run. It's her on her own against the four of them. Her aim is off and her target changes just before she shoots the second bullet, meant for the back of Harry's head. She'd rather gun down his father's escaped belongings and let his son run for the hills. He will be found and his punishment will be much more worse than a bullet to his skull. Instead, the bullet goes hurtling towards the back of Niall's head, but the blonde trips pathetically over his feet in his scramble and misses it purely by luck.

There is ten seconds of docking port left before they start running into the city. She's lost them before she's had them. So as a last attempt to get a bullet in and slow them down, she aims for Louis, pulling the trigger. He stumbles, just as they disappear into the city.

"Run, Charis, run. Like cattle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read my message at the start if you didn't already :) Thanks for reading .xx  
> Be nice, as Harry would say ;););) and leave a comment <3
> 
> And I mean, there are other variations of Harry but I wanted something greek cause Macedonia's part of Greece and charis just sounded better than the others *smiles awkwardly*
> 
> Goodnight... or good morning :D


	13. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, it cant get anymore bloody bittersweet and sexier than this :)
> 
> Enjoy .xx
> 
> p.s. harrys got a dick piercing and what

"Ha-Harry-"

"Shh," the green eyed man runs his fingers through the smaller boy's damp hair. "Do you trust me, Blue?"

Louis opens his eyes to the familiar scenery of their hotel room, to Dua with unreadable eyes beside him and, through his blurry vision, the person he wishes he never met. There's the most traumatic pain in his back, his skin split and bleeding out, the rag that Dua holds firmly under him soaked and dripping. He can hear her breathing, knows she's constantly swallowing. When he blinks his sight to fine HD, he can see the beads of sweat trickling down her forehead, the water that pools at her cupid's bow. He can feel the way she shakes violently, unable to gather herself, unable to claim back her sanity.

Then there's Harry, steady, calm, breathing, like he's done this before. Of course he has, God, _of course he has_. Louis' got a bullet in his shoulder, but the excruciating torture runs throughout his whole body. He's got a bullet in his shoulder. _He's got a bullet in his shoulder._

"Lovey, k-keep speaking to us," Dua smiles hopefully through the tears that burst out. She's scared, she's so terrified, voice completely shattered with fright. "P-Please?"

Louis' head only rolls away from hers. He's lost so much blood and he's weak. He can't stop his body from shaking in rounds of tremors due to the pain.

Louis' eyes close out of weakness and the tap to his face he receives does very little to open them back up, but when he feels his entire body being flipped over onto his front, the harrowing pain not only snaps open his eyes but leaves him crying out and in tears.

"I am sorry," he hears Harry's nimble apology, then feels his tee being ripped apart and discarded. "I am so sorry for this."

Then the pressure on his shoulder disappears. He doesn't register it as it happens, the way fingers dig into his bullet hole, or the way a scream rips from the back of his throat, so loudly that it abruptly cuts off into a strangled cry. He cries, and he cries, and he cries, his eyes clenched shut, until the bullet is being pulled out and he's being sutured shut. He's lost his voice by the time Harry pulls away, hands bloody. He's pulled up gently, cradled to Harry's chest, sobbing. The curly headed man strokes the tears from his cheeks.

"I am so sorry," Harry repeats, voice entirely laced with guilt. "Louis, I am so sorry," he begins to shake himself, tears dropping onto Louis' hair. "We need to go."

The blue eyed boy shakes his head. He's too weak to move, Harry knows it, but they need to get out of there. The green eyed man picks him up, knees buckling on his first attempt. Harry doesn't admit it, but he is frightened himself.

"Dua, can you get our passports and gadgets and pack them in that bag."

The dark brunette nods, however before she can do so, she stumbles back and throws up on the floor against the bed. She's still in shock, but Harry needs her to get her shit together, so he lays Louis on the bed, staining the white sheets with his hands, and grabs Dua's face.

"Hey," he taps her on the face as she gags, hunching over. She slumps against the bed, eyes shutting. "Hey, hey, hey!" Harry shakes her violently. "Wake up. I need you," but she doesn't, passed out from shock on the floor. Harry grips his bloody hands in his hair and tugs his strands in frustration. _"Fuck!"_

He stands up, hastily checks the time on his watch, then in a rush, puts a sweater on Louis, packs their passports and phones and a spare change of clothes, leaving their suitcases for the hotel cleaners. He checks the time again, cursing, and slings the bag over his shoulder. He looks around the room, scanning the area, then grabs Louis and leaves the place. He's pacing through the fire exit route in the hotel, silently and stealthily, when the blue eyed boy speaks against his chest.

"Dua..."

Harry was planning to leave her. He doesn't have the time to tread back up and risk getting caught up to by someone in the hotel - it's bad enough he's on the security cameras hovering outside. They'll be on his case already. But as he slips through the fire exit door and into an alleyway, he finally responds. He doesn't want to be heartless like his dad.

"I am going to go back and get her."

Louis tries to thank him but ends up losing consciousness. Harry feels him go lax and his heart screams, but in order to get out of Monnickendam alive, he can't drop to his knees in a panic. Instead, he multiplies his speed, right up to the end of the alleyway where a pre-planned car awaits. He straps Louis in, thanks Zayn, the driver, and rounds back up to get Dua. When he gets back down, Niall should be there with Mason. However, he gets back down, opens the car door to strap a passed out Dua in and he doesn't see the two blondes.

"Where is Niall?" Harry asks Zayn firmly. He doesn't get an answer straight away and slams the door shut. He presses his back against the car, closing his eyes and breathing in deep. Zayn steps out, the look on his face one of sorrow and grief.

"Harry, we can't wait for them if they're not going to turn up..."

"God damn it, Zayn!" He bangs his hand on the roof of the car. "You fucking insensitive prick! They are coming! They are fucking coming! They- they are coming, okay?!"

"Harry..." Zayn tries again as the man starts to pace up and down, a hand running through his hair in fear of the worst and in anticipation.

"Shut up, for fuck's sake," he grits his teeth, leaning his hands on the car. "They have not got them yet. I know it, I-"

"Get us the fuck out of here!"

Harry's head snaps up to see Niall running up to them, Mason clutched tightly against him. _Oh, how he's missed Mason_. There's the overwhelming feeling of relief he feels as the sky lightens, from knowing that Mason is okay, that he's being shoved against his chest, that he's in his arms as the car doors slam shut, as Zayn slams his foot down on the pedal, as the car skids out onto the main roads, as they do a 70 on a 30, as they exceed 90 on the freeway, as they _escape_.

"Mama otay?"

"Your mama is okay."

•

It's as they approach a jet in the middle of an empty field when Louis starts to gain consciousness, blue eyes glimmering as the sunrise streams through the window, hitting him on the face. The first thing he notices is the air blurred where the turbines of the airplane spin, then the sight of a pilot stood on the steps, taking off his cap and nodding to them.

As he turns his head and groans, that's when he catches Harry's eyes, the man's head turned towards him. Then he sees Mason, hair a dirty blonde curly mess, slobbering all over his fingers in Harry's lap, and he thanks the heavens above for the second chance he's been given. He's never wanted Mason, but in this moment, that's all he wants. Harry sees the happy tears that escape Louis' eyes and silently hands the child over as the car comes to a stop, immediately feeling empty. He gets out of the car, approaching the pilot.

"Sir, thank you."

The pilot steps down the last few steps swiftly, a bright smile on his face as he firmly shakes Harry's hand. "Please drop formalities, Charis. I do not return to the military for another six weeks."

"I will need you, Liam," Harry stares him in the eyes, receiving Liam's silent promise that he will be there when needed. "Please do not call me Charis. No more."

"You are finally running?"

Harry looks back at the car, sees Niall with his hands on Dua's shoulders trying to shake his friend back to her senses, sees Zayn leant against the car on his phone sending out a false location, sees Louis still in the car with Mason, hugging the little child close and saying a prayer. He looks back at Liam.

"I have to. It is no longer just me. I have someone that I care about, and his child."

"Have you fallen in love?" Liam asks, a knowing smile on his face.

"I did not choose to. He is in danger either way. He is a criminal and he does not know it."

Liam gulps. "He escaped the slaughter?"

Harry lets the early morning breeze hit him in the face, the last of the sun rising from the horizon line. "I am the reason why. How could I leave the person I love for Marken? He would not have been there if it was not for Eden."

Liam nods slowly, glancing down at his watch. "We must leave now."

"How many hours in the air?"

"This will be a charter flight so I cannot state," the pilot responds. "I will be stopping at CNP in Greenland to change the jet."

"That is dangerous territory," Harry's eyes widen. "We cannot stop there."

"I do know your father carries business there. We will kill them all. Let your father track this plane to Greenland. He will not find us on it. We will escape without a trace. It is the safest option."

"And if it all goes wrong?" Harry swallows, glancing at Louis and Mason. "It is Greenland. Five planes land per week, none in CNP. If it all goes wrong, we will be all alone until my father finds us."

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"Then we must go now," Liam steps aside, standing beside the stairs with his hands behind his back.

Harry nods his head then steps back and away, walking towards the car. He hears Niall and Dua discussing how they can't leave yet but doesn't comment on it. That's between them and all he really cares about in this moment is if Louis will make the journey conscious with the amount of blood he lost. He opens the door to Mason wiping the tears off Louis' face.

"We must go now, Blue."

Louis looks at him through hazy eyes, body in pain. Mason frantically wipes at the tears that drop, face worried.

"Mama, no cry. Otay?"

Harry stands, mentally counting the minutes they've wasted in this field letting his father and Eden get minutes closer to them. "Louis. We must go now."

The blue eyed parent looks down at his son. "I'm okay, Mase. Let's go, baby. Time to go." He goes to move, but the pain of the bullet hole leaves him crying out in agony with the lack of meds to numb the pain.

"Let me help you," Harry offers, face straight even through the feeling of his heart breaking at seeing Louis in pain.

"Please?" Louis gets out.

The green eyed man takes Mason from his lap, standing the two year old on the ground. Then with gentle hands, helps Louis get out of the car and picks him up. One hand comes to rest on his lower back, Louis' legs coming up to wrap around his waist. Harry's other hand reaches down to hold Mason's and they begin to walk towards the private jet, Zayn closing the door behind them.

"You two cannot stay here," Harry speaks to Dua and Niall as he comes to a stop in front of them. "They know who you are."

"We won't," Niall speaks. "Dua is going to say goodbye to her family, I refuse to leave her. We will get the first flight we can to Boston."

"We cannot go to Boston. Get the first flight to Yellowknife, Canada."

Niall nods his head firmly. "Louis?" He waits for his best friend to turn his head towards him. "Solas na gréine, do not leave me, okay? I love you."

Louis tears up. "I love you too, Nialler. I'll see you soon," he lets Niall thumb at his cheek, giving him an assuring smile. "I promise."

They part there, waving as Dua and Niall get back into the car with Zayn. Harry watches through his lashes as the car turns and drives off back into a war zone and hopes for the best. Then without a word, begins to board the private jet, letting Liam carry Mason up the stairs. He inhales one last breath of the Amsterdam air, then lets Liam shut the door, and as the plane takes off, thanks the heavens above to have Louis and Mason beside him.

•

"How are you feeling?"

Louis wakes up to a hand running through his hair, a pair of green eyes staring at him shamelessly. He grunts, trying to breathe through the horrible pain in his shoulder, but it's too much. Harry knows it is and wipes the tears from his cheeks instead of waiting for an answer, kneeling down in front of him.

"Where is Mason?"

"He is with Liam in the cockpit seeing the world," Harry smiles at the thought of the two year old trying to ask the pilot what all the buttons and controls are but being too young to form a proper coherent sentence. "Liam is a pilot in the military. He knows what he is doing there, I am sure he knows what he is doing with a two year old child."

Louis lets out a strangled laugh. "That's the equivalent of saying I know what I'm talking about in psychology so I know what I'm doing with a two year old child. Clearly I don't, putting one in harm's way... I shouldn't have let you live with us."

Harry can hear his own heart crack down the middle but he doesn't respond, looking out of one of the windows behind Louis, face consumed with hurt. Louis lets the moment pass, not wanting to apologise with the painful reminder that he got a bullet in the shoulder trying to escape.

"Charis," Louis breaks the ice. "Is that your real name?"

Harry looks down at Louis' lap, avoiding his eyes and twiddling with his thumbs. "Yes, it is my birth name," he sighs. "I do not like it. My mother gave it to me. It is a reminder that she is no longer here."

"So why Harry?"

"It is the English version," Harry shrugs sheepishly. "Does not sound exactly the same as Charis, hurts a little bit less, you know?"

Seconds pass of silence and it feels like an eternity before there's a hand cupping Harry's face and lifting his head up. He's faced with Louis' lips parted and a sentence about to come out, but a cry of pain does instead. Harry's heart breaks even more because throughout the whole flight, he's bound to hear the same sound of agony rip from Louis' throat. There's no morphine or other meds to numb the pain on board. The jet was ordered without preparation in a haste to get out and the medical box has all been used up from the last time the plane was in use. Harry can only hope the next plane has some.

"H-Harry?" Louis' voice wavers. "I trust you."

"A little late of an answer, is it not?" Harry laughs lightly but then sees the dead serious look on Louis' face. "What do you mean?"

"I trust you," he repeats quietly. "To take the pain away."

Harry furrows his eyebrows. "There is no medicine here, Blue," he tries to ignore the guilt swimming in his stomach as another one of Louis' tears fall.

Louis shakes his head, exhaling a deep breath shakily. He grips onto one of Harry's hands and bites his lips to distract himself from the pain as he gets up. He leads Harry wordlessly to the lavatory. Once the door shuts behind them, the hum of the plane's engine is all they can hear amongst their breathing. Louis stands at the sink, staring at himself in the mirror, the bags under his eyes, the red of his cheeks, then at Harry behind him. He reaches back, grabbing the taller man's hands and bringing them slowly around to his front.

Louis hums, content with the feeling. Then he closes his eyes and imagines a world where he hasn't just escaped a coterie of criminals _with_ a criminal. He can't imagine one and it scares him. He doesn't think he could live without Harry now he has him.

"I trust you," he repeats one last final time, looking at the green eyed man through the mirror. "To take the pain away," he sniffles, automatically feeling vulnerable under Harry's stare right back. "Make me forget for a while... please?"

Harry gets it. He gets what the smaller boy is asking for, heart fluttering at the trust being put in him to do it. His lips part to speak, but his hands pull Louis flush up against him before he does.

"Do you hear what you ask me for?"

Louis gasps at the feeling of Harry pressed up against him, eyes closing. It feels like glory. They fit perfectly. "Yes."

Harry tilts Louis' head to scan his features before leaning in to kiss him. He feels Louis' trust for him through his lips, knows that Louis genuinely wants this, and he can't find a bone in his body that wants to deny him. So he slips a thumb under Louis' sweater, drawing it over his head and dropping it to the floor. He scans the expanse of bare skin through the mirror, eyes lingering on the outline of each of Louis' collarbones, the dip of his navel. It's different this time seeing him shirtless. Harry's not in rush, he can actually soak the view in, revel in it.

He trails his lips from the back of Louis' neck to his jawline making him shiver. "Have you ever had someone in you?"

Louis shakes his head, looking down. Harry brings his face back up by his chin, fingers trailing his neck onto his shoulder without the wound.

"Do not be ashamed if I am the first man you are letting in, or the first man you feel something for, okay? I have told you this before, I will not take advantage of you. You are mine for the taking but I would never take you just to touch you. I want to _feel_ you, understand?"

Louis nods his head, gulping down his nerves. Harry combs his hair back with his fingers, freeing Louis' blue eyes from his fringe that has fallen into his view. It's wholly intimate, the way Harry never takes his eyes off him, even as he kicks off his own shoes, unzips their jeans, removes his top, right up until he's all skin and tats and Louis is all skin and goose bumps.

Then Harry just stares shamelessly at every part of the person before him, the father before him. The father to a child, Mason, who Harry can't imagine being away from. He can only imagine how Louis must have been feeling as he was gunned down, in the hotel room bleeding out, on the floor helpless.

"I am so sorry."

Louis frowns, slowly turning himself around to face Harry. Looking at all those tattoos, some as pointless as a picket fence, he doesn't think anything has changed. He's still just as attracted to Harry as he was before Monnickendam. Still feels the urge to fiddle with his eyebrow piercing, still wants to feel the ball on his tongue against his skin.

"I'm about to join the mile high club and you're apologising?" Louis laughs airily, eyes locked on Harry's.

Harry looks at him with a look that's pure lust laced with delirium and before Louis can register it, he's being spun back around and dragged until his behind is snug against Harry's front again. Now that they're all bare and naked, Louis can feel him as he is and the feeling makes him close his eyes and roll his head back. He feels something cool.

"Fuck, is that a piercing?"

He snaps his eyes back open when he's grabbed by the jaw and his head is forced forward so that he's staring into his own eyes in the mirror.

"Yes," Harry answers. "Do you expect any less?"

Louis doesn't, and he doesn't expect any less when Harry trails two fingers up to his lips, pushing them apart and filling up his mouth instead of waiting for an answer. Excluding the blue bruised skin surrounding the sutured bullet hole on his back, Louis' entire skin glows with lust and his eternally blue eyes glimmer with amazement. He's stunned himself by laying himself putty in the hands of a criminal, standing stark naked in front of Harry and offering a part of him he never thought he would to a man.

Harry strokes Louis' tongue with his fingers, a thin line of saliva forming as he removes them once they're coated. Louis watches intently as the pair of fingers inch lower, each bone in his body accompanied with a rush of electricity when he feels the new feeling of fingers prodding at his hole.

He jolts forward against the sink at the odd intrusion, cheeks flushing a camellia red in embarrassment as Harry has to pull him back by cupping his stomach. He avoids looking at himself in the mirror. Harry has the upper hand and it steals any bit of masculinity Louis has left being the one controlled.

He's always been the one doing the fucking, so he wonders if Harry will grip onto his hips hard to the extent of leaving fingernail prints and pound into him like Louis did to the girls he fucked in his life before Mason was conceived.

Harry looks him over in the mirror, sage green eyes eaten up by a dangerous kind of desire that Louis understands well enough is going to be channelled into the way he's going to get shoved against the sink, bound to leave a sickly bruise. Then one of those prodding fingers inch their way in and he's unable to wriggle out of Harry's immense lock of a hold, chained to him.

"Have you touched yourself like this before?"

His cherry lips nip at Louis' jawline, a mere distraction away from his second finger nudging against his rim. The blue eyed boy nods his head, hands gripping the sink until his knuckles turn a porcelain white. He bites down harshly on his lip, feeling the tip of Harry's second finger slip its way into him.

"When was the last time?" The green eyed man never takes his eyes off the pair of blue ones, not even as he reaches his lips round to brush them against the smaller boy's.

Louis swallows, eyes closing at the gut twisting feeling of Harry's fingers brushing his walls gently. "The night we first kissed." Then the pair of fingers start to move in and out of him making his stomach hit the sink with each push in. His knees start to buckle under his weight but Harry's firm hand around his middle keeps him up.

"Where did you do it?"

"In the- fuck- in the bathroom," Louis pants out as he starts to hold his breath when Harry's fingers start to nudge that spot in him that's never been touched before.

"Who were you thinking of?"

Harry purposely presses and keeps his fingers against Louis' sweet spot, the blue eyed boy gasping loudly, mouth forming an 'o' and fingernails trying to scratch at the ceramic sink.

"Tell me, who were you thinking of?"

He's clearly teasing the blue eyed boy because he keeps nudging at that spot, rubbing at it yet expects Louis to form an answer in his current state of jelly. When Louis' able to unclench his eyes and look the both of them in the mirror, he sees the twisted smirk on Harry's face. His insides turn into melted butter.

"Do not answer me then, Blue."

Harry's playing games with the way he purposely removes his fingers without so much of a notice along with his arms around Louis. The smaller boy drops against the counter, panting and limp. The emerald eyed man takes it as an invitation to place one of his hands on the middle of Louis' back, holding him down firmly as he reaches up to a cabinet to claim some lube. Louis screws up his face.

"Why do you have lube on a plane?"

"Have you forgotten the kind of business I am a part of, or rather were? Or is that bullet hole not a sufficient enough reminder?" Harry questions regardless of how raw it sounds.

Hurt evidently flashes over Louis' face and Harry catches it along with a mountain of guilt. The curly haired man sighs, stroking his thumb over the soft skin at the curve of Louis' back, other hand fiddling to lather himself up. Once he's slick, he leans forward, cupping the blue eyed boy's jaw from behind and kissing his cheek.

"I am sorry. I tend not to have a filter when I am with you. Do forgive me?"

Louis can barely even filter his thoughts when he starts to feel Harry's tip nudging at his hole, virginity on the edge of being lost. He wants it, every part of him wanting to willingly force himself back on Harry, but knows it's best to trust Harry over his unexperienced self and let him make the first move.

"Wait," the blue eyed boy dismisses Harry's try for forgiveness from him. "You knew there was lube but you put your fingers in my mouth?"

Harry stares at him and Louis can feel those forest green eyes burning laser beams into his back.

"I like the idea of being in your mouth."

Louis' jaw drops for two reasons: the way that unbelievably turns him on even more and the way Harry pushes into him, hips never stopping until he's almost balls deep and the smaller boy is stuffed. Harry watches contently how Louis' hands knock at the sink, trying to grab onto anything and everything.

Harry would prefer it if he had those blue eyes looking them both over in the mirror. The green eyed man presses an arm around Louis' front, hand coming up to wrap around his neck and gently pull him backwards until he's facing the two of them in the mirror and he's sunken that little inch more down on Harry's member causing him to be completely balls deep in him. Louis reaches back a hand onto Harry's hip, trying to undo that inch but the taller man keeps himself in firmly and Louis has no choice but to deal with the way Harry's tip brushes his sweet spot.

"Tell me when it is okay for me to move," Harry breathes into his ear, eyes locked on his hazy blue ones.

Louis' got a moan in his throat he doesn't yet want to let out because he knows it's not the kind of manly grunt he usually sounds. Harry's got him feeling some sort of foreign way, and by the grace of God, he can't say that he hates it. He doesn't necessarily have any words barging past the crazed sound in his throat waiting to come out, so the most he can do to tell Harry he's good to move is grab his free hand and wrap it around the front of one of his thighs, spreading his legs apart. Then he pulls the hand around his neck down to his waist. Harry doesn't waste a second.

The green eyed man pulls out then with obsessive hands, grips tightly onto Louis' waist and fucks himself back in. Each hard thrust knocks Louis' stomach against the sink again. Louis doesn't know what to do with his hands, or where to put them, or what to pull, so Harry removes a hand off his hip to guide each of the blue eyed boy's hands to his curly locks.

Louis immediately tugs on them, earning a grunt from Harry as the taller man picks up his pace. Even though Harry's got the tightest grip on him, Louis' knees are so weak that he feels like if he doesn't grab tightly at Harry's curly hair, he'll drop forward. He's in complete and utter bliss looking at Harry starting to kiss and nibble at his jaw line, sage green eyes holding an intense hold with Louis' through the mirror.

More than anything Louis feels the urge to clench his eyes shut as Harry pounds into him and let his eyes roll to the back of his head, but his eyes feel superglued to those green ones staring right back at him, a crazed, lust filled look in them. Looking at Harry fuck him in the mirror is so dauntingly intimate, realising how small his body is against Harry's is entirely riveting, and noticing the littered purple marks appearing on his skin makes him hold his breath.

Harry's leaving his marks on him and Louis feels like he's committed a crime. He's been so opposed to the idea of being attached to someone but seeing Harry's marks on him is visible conformation that he is attached to someone and with a criminal. It feels wrong, but at the same time it feels so unbelievably right. With the way Harry thrusts against that spot in him, Louis doesn't think he could rip himself away even if Harry is society's definition of 'fucked up'.

Instead, the blue eyed boy grips harder at Harry's curly strands, the taller man closing his eyes for a moment in pleasure. When his eyes open back up, the look in them is ten times more berserk than they were before. Then Harry starts to grin.

"You like to shout?"

Louis doesn't need to nod his head for Harry to have an answer. The curly headed man takes Louis' strangled silence as an answer, pauses his hips abruptly and brings his mouth to Louis' ear.

_"Scream."_

That's the boost Louis needs to let the moans rip from his throat, to let his lungs feel suffocated with the screams that come out and steal his breath. It's what Harry wants to hear, Louis in all his glory, his sounds unaltered by silence. It drives Harry, fuels him even more than he already is, gives him that heap load more of urge to chase the feeling his stomach coiling up will lead to.

Louis' twisted inside himself with each fuck into his sweet spot, knuckles turning white in Harry's hair. He can barely keep his eyes open anymore, the noises coming out of his mouth slurred and pathetic. All Louis needs to fall over the edge is a handful more of thrusts against that specific spot in him, and Harry gives it to him, each slam in causing their skin to slap against each other.

It's easy to tell Louis has spilled himself, and not because he's making a mess all over his stomach and the sink, but because he's clenching fascinatingly tight around Harry, then his entire body is falling lax as Harry gets several last thrusts in before spilling his seed inside of him.

Harry falls heavily against Louis, the pair panting in attempt to get their breathing back to normal. Louis' head is so fuzzy but he's still able to make out what Harry's just done and his jaw drops in a gasp.

"Harry!"

"Yes?"

The curly headed lad smirks, spurting the last of his seed into Louis. The shit eating grin on his face is a piss take and Louis wants to glare at him through the mirror but he's still got his face riddled with horror.

"You're gross!"

There's a part of him that actually really likes being filled up with Harry's jizz, but the part that is royally pissed because he's going to be leaking that out for a couple of hours gets the best of him.

Harry only chuckles, pulling out slowly. Louis would wince at the emptiness if he wasn't so occupied with reaching his hand around and feeling what Harry's done. Louis gasps again when he realises Harry _really fucking did that_.

"You've made a fucking mess!"

Harry can't help but keep smiling, the frown on Louis' face incredibly cute. He'll get over it eventually. For the time being the curly headed lad plans to make the most out of an angry Louis, humoured.

"I have never actually done that... At least I've taken your mind off the pain."

"You sodding cunt, never done what?" Louis gives up, unable to undo what Harry's done and nimbly uses his hand to whack Harry on the thigh. 

"Fill someone up like that," Harry frowns, clearly upset. "You are the first person that I have done that to, that I have actually wanted to be inside... The first person I have not used protection with."

"Jesus..." Louis stares at him in the mirror, silent for a moment. "You still made a fucking mess in me."

Harry pats him on his bum. "Do stop complaining, Blue. I know you have secretly enjoyed it. It is me."

"Cocky bastard. Clean me up. I wanna see Mason."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for the comments :)) So this was the first long chapter, again it does mean I'll only be able to update once a week and I'll end up struggling with that too cause I'm working on sulk and my collab with Larriegal as well so bare with me and please hang on if I'm a few days late with an update .x
> 
> I should probably establish that this also will be a somewhat shorter fic. I'm thinking 50/60 thousand words.
> 
> Updated note: GUYS I'M SO SORRY I mean around 70 thousand, maybe a bit more haha 
> 
> Much love guys <3


	14. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry that this is about three days late and a little shorter than the last chapter. There wasn't much I could do about it and I'd love for this to be longer but I wouldn't be able to update until Thursday and that's almost 2 weeks late. Hell no.
> 
> Enjoy .x

"Hi," Louis crouches down before Mason on Liam's lap in the airplane cabin. The blue eyed parent strokes the two year old's cheek, cupping his face and kissing his forehead. "What's up?"

"Hi, mama!" Mason lands a kiss on the tip of Louis' nose in return. "Lima put plane aut'pile! Plane fly on self!"

"I can see," Louis smiles, ruffling Mason's blonde hair before looking up to Liam. "Thank you for taking care of him."

Liam gives him a wink, passing Mason to him. "You are very welcome. Anytime," he responds before getting up and pulling Harry to the side.

Louis doesn't question being excluded. Whatever it is Liam has to tell Harry Louis will surely find out because even after all that he's seen and realised in the past twenty four hours, he hasn't ran. He's made what could just be the biggest mistake of his life and he hasn't run for the hills. The green eyed man wouldn't dare lie about anything, not after Louis has given him his all, not after he's _stayed_.

"Mama," Mason points his little finger at Louis' neck. "Mama, hurt? Daddy hurt mama?"

Louis tilts his head, evidently confused until he remembers all the marks, the _claims_ Harry has left on his neck, a littered trail of hickeys like the smaller boy was attacked by a leech.

"Oh," Louis chuckles, running his fingers through Mason's hair. "No, Harry didn't hurt me, lovely. He kissed me."

Mason furrows his little eyebrows, poking one of the marks on Louis' neck. Louis' face scrunches up at the uncomfortable feeling of his skin being sensitive and sore.

"But b'uises, mama..." Mason looks worriedly at him. "Daddy hurt mama... Daddy touch mama! Mama mine!"

It completely hits Louis in the face, the way Mason stomps or more so waddles past him, straight up to Harry who receives a hit to the thigh. Louis' jaw drops as Harry and Liam's conversation comes to a halt, Mason hitting the green eyed man again with his small fist.

"Hurt mama!"

Louis doesn't get up soon enough, not with the thudding pain in his shoulder that's also back on his mind. The blue eyed parent sighs, eventually standing up and approaching his son, all eyes on him. He takes Mason away from Harry and Liam - who stare confused - into a corner, crouching down and making the two year old look him in the eyes.

"Mason, I refuse to tolerate hitting. Look at me," Louis keeps his face straight although inside he feels sympathetic towards Mason. He doesn't actually know what a hickey is. "No hitting."

"Mama, I angry," Mason tears up, overwhelmed.

"Baby," Louis pulls him in for a hug. "Daddy didn't hurt me, okay? And I'm yours but daddy's still allowed to touch me. Mase, what's wrong, huh? Do you have a tummy ache?"

The question is one hundred percent genuine. Mason, although still himself, has been very intense lately. Louis partly blames that on the fact that everything around them is chaotic and even a two year old child can sense that. Then he also blames it on the fact that Mason has gone from being surrounded only by him and his granddad to numerous amounts of people he's never met before in his life. So many things could be the cause as to why Mason isn't acting completely the same. Louis just hopes it's the bearable reason.

"No, mama..."

"Then what's wrong?" Louis rubs his back. "Do you not want daddy with mama?"

"No, mama..."

"Mase, why?" Louis pulls back, deeply concerned and worried about Mason. The blue eyed parent has just about picked up on Mason's jealously every time he states Harry can't touch him, but Louis doesn't know why it's bothering him so much, a little two year old child whose main concern is whether he gets to play with his toys again after getting in trouble for not putting them away.

"Mine..." Mason sniffles.

"Yes, I'm yours, I'm yours, _I'm yours_. I'm not going anywhere. I love you, but I really, really like daddy and I'm allowed to be his too, okay?" Louis brushes his strands back, trying his hardest to make Mason understand but he's only two, there's only so much he _can_ understand.

"Mine, mama, mine."

By now, Louis would be shouting his lungs to death, gripping his hair and wishing he never had Mason. There's a big part of him that wants to do exactly that right now because the situation is a bit ridiculous, but by default after giving Harry his all, he doesn't want to upset the curly headed man by being horrible to his child. The idea of wanting to shout at Mason doesn't exactly sit well in Louis' stomach anymore anyway. He feels immensely guilty for all the times he did.

"Okay. I'm all yours, I promise. Only yours. Daddy won't touch me anymore."

He doesn't mean to lie, but in his mind that is running on crazy after the past twenty four hours, it's much better than shouting to his son and especially doing it in front of Harry and a pilot from the military. Louis picks Mason up, bouncing him in his arms gently until he takes a seat, Mason hugging him like a bear. Harry's finished his brief conversation with Liam, the pilot returning to the cockpit, and the tattooed lad comes to sit down next to the two of them, not saying a thing.

"You're doing that thing where you stare at me like a sex crazed cunt."

"Hey!" Harry puts his arm around his neck in a loose headlock. "Do not be rude to me, Blue."

Louis scoffs, moving his mouth down to bite at Harry's arm whilst Mason starts to wriggle in his hold. "I haven't forgotten what you did. I'm gonna be mean to you until you sincerely apologise for making a mess in me."

"Oh, stop whining about it, you bug," Harry lightly flicks him on the head, faced with Mason's angry little stare straight after.

Mason starts to pull at Harry's arm around Louis' neck. "Off mama. Off."

The green eyed man furrows his eyebrows at the little child, tilting his head. "I am only playing with mama, Mason."

"Off!"

"Mason," Louis gives him a warning look. "Stop it."

When Mason dismisses him, grabbing at Harry's arm and tugging, Louis stands him up on the floor, clearly irritated. Harry squeezes a hand on the blue eyed parent's arm, a silent _calm down_ and _be understanding_ to soothe his anger. It's normal for a kid to get jealous when their parent is constantly with someone that's not them, but then again, Mason's never been that kind of kid. Louis doesn't know what to do and quite frankly, he doesn't have the never ending patience a parent needs to have for dealing with matters like this. He hasn't _had_ to deal with something like this yet.

"Mason," Harry tries, gently taking him from Louis' arms and sitting him on his lap. "What's wrong, darling?"

The little boy pouts, big blue eyes tearing up. "Mama mine. Mama mine. I-I-"

"Did not mama have a talk with you about that?" Harry runs his fingers through Mason's hair, calmly reassuring him that everything is okay.

Mason nods his head and cuddles into Harry's hand that falls to his cheek. "Mama say you no touch mama."

The green eyed man looks towards Louis, eyebrows raised. Louis only gives him a sheepish look, looking guilty as hell. Harry clears his throat, wanting to scold Louis for lying but not having the right too after all his own lies.

"Did he?"

"'Cause only Mason kiss mama an'... an' only Mason hug mama- only Mason _touch_ mama!"

"Are you jealous, Mason?" Harry questions, green eyes patient and loving.

"Jelly-ous?"

"God damn it, Harry. He's only two years old," Louis bats Harry on his arm, a habit he's adopted whenever Harry does or says stupid things that he doesn't expect to come out of the mouth of a mastermind criminal.

"If he does not understand, we teach him. Is that not what parents do?"

Louis stares at him silently, brain quickly processing what Harry has just said. "I... You...?"

"Yes, I do class myself as a sort of parental figure to Mason. A terrible one, I know. I am sorry. I do hope that does not upset you. I have never quite felt the way I do with you two and I would like to have an actual family-"

"Woah," Louis turns his whole body to face him. "Hold your horses. Sex doesn't mean we're suddenly now a fam-"

"S-ex?"

Louis covers his mouth, cerulean eyes growing wide as Harry sends a glare to him, although not as harsh as the smaller boy guessed it would be.

"That we do not teach him. Let us go back to what we were talking about before," Harry changes the subject, turning to look back at Mason. "You are scared that I will take mama from you, so you hit me and get very upset. You are jealous."

"I jelly-ous?"

"Jealous," the curly headed lad corrects him, stroking his cheek. "It is okay to be. I understand why you do not want me to touch mama, but I promise that I will not steal him from you, okay?"

"No hurt mama, otay?" Mason blinks cutely, little legs swinging on each side of Harry's thighs. The green eyed man loves it when Louis puts him in those tiny Doc Martens, and the dungarees too. "Hurt neck."

Harry glances at the hickeys on Louis' neck and a cheeky smile pops up on his face.

"That did not hurt mama, Mason. It made him feel nice," he rubs the two year old's side before fiddling with the clip of his dungaree.

"Oh," Mason absentmindedly grabs Harry's index finger and middle, playing with them. "I do what daddy did mama?"

"No baby, that's what mummies and daddies do," Louis intervenes, side eyeing Harry for getting carried away and not changing the subject again like he should do. "You make me feel nice by hugging me and playing with me."

"Daddy no touch mama t'en," Mason decides for good.

Louis groans and rolls his eyes. "Harry, you can't touch me. Full stop."

"Hey," Harry pouts at Louis. "I like touching you."

"No, you like _touching_ me," the blue eyed parent deadpans him before he leans in to whisper in Harry's left ear. "In which Mason doesn't know that exists 'cause he's fucking two so just shut up and say you won't touch me, okay?"

"Mason, I won't touch mama," the curly headed lad gives a quick stroke to Mason's cheek before inhaling deeply and handing the child to Louis.

"I am going to see Liam," Harry gets up. "I came to tell you I am proud that you did not shout at Mason."

"Thanks," Louis mumbles, looking down shyly.

Harry gives a small smile, then he crouches down, taking one of Louis' smaller hands into his, looking him in the eyes. He's thankful Mason isn't paying attention to them, occupied with the blinds of the window behind Louis.

"As for the family thing, I do not expect what we did to automatically make us a family. I am not unrealistic and I believe in time. I hope that one day, given time, you will love me as I do you right now and without a second thought allow me to be a part of your little family."

Louis' jaw drops, heart beating erratically in his chest. It's only been three months. For Harry to say that is absolutely absurd and it messes with Louis' mind.

"You-"

"I know what I said, Blue. I do not regret saying it either. To you it must seem mental, but for me it does not. Not when I have seen the world and I am ready to settle down. Of course I am going to fall in love easily, and with you, all the more quicker," Harry confesses, never letting go of Louis' hand.

The smaller boy gulps feeling vulnerable under Harry's stare. He feels vulnerable to the immense love showcased in Harry's scintillating eyes. Louis' never seen someone look at him that way.

"I am aware that none of this will come quickly to you. I know you are still unsure of yourself and I do not mind if I am your experiment, but if you ever want to back out, please be honest with me. Do not lead me on, Blue, because I am rather in love and that will hurt," Harry pleads, eyes begging.

Louis' insides melt, his cheeks turn a rosy red and his hands grow clammy.

"I promise not to," he replies. "May I ask what the difference between being attached and being in love is? I'm not too good at this stuff," Louis admits shyly.

Harry gives an airy laugh, relieved that Louis hasn't just rejected him. Given that Louis has stayed with him after everything that has happened, he shouldn't doubt him anyway.

"Being attached is all the mind's work. You think you need someone. Being in love is all the heart. You do not think you need someone, you _know_ _._ "

Louis tilts his head, fighting a smile that's due to appear on his face. "You need me? I feel like a burden half the bloody time. Look at me, hauling around Mason here."

"Hey," Harry gives him a disapproving frown. "Mason is part of the package deal and I one hundred percent am happy with it. Yes, I do need you. I am not afraid to admit it nor am I embarrassed. I need you, like flint needs steel, okay?"

Harry waits until Louis is giving him a little nod and leans in to give him a kiss.

"Te sakam."

Louis blinks innocently. "What?"

"It means _I love you_ ," Harry smiles before starting to stand back up. "I will go to Liam now."

"Okay," Louis breathes out.

"Okay," Harry responds, unable to stop smiling as he takes a couple of steps back, turning, but before he can walk off, Louis is speaking again.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You're not twenty like I've been assuming, are you?"

Harry looks down sheepishly, shaking his head. "I am twenty six."

Louis nods his head, the silence between them growing the littlest bit awkward for him. He shifts in his seat.

"I don't usually go for older people," Louis admits. "You're an exception."

"I am glad," Harry smiles. "I will be back."

Louis lets Harry walk off this time, diverting his attention to Mason once Harry shuts the door to the cockpit. Mason is fast asleep in his arms, little mouth open and face pressing against his chest. Louis can do with a nap himself, and so lets himself slowly drift off into a sleep with Harry's words on his mind.

_Te sakam._

•

"Blue."

"Mm?" Louis groans groggily, eyes still closed.

He can still feel Mason asleep in his arms, but he can also feel the tension in the room. When Louis opens his eyes, he first notices all the blinds to the windows shut. Then he sees Harry crouching down before him and he immediately notices how tense Harry is. Despite his stoic face, his eyes have a very clear layer of fear in them that tells Louis something is wrong.

"You must be alert right now," Harry speaks quietly.

Louis realises that the plane is no longer moving and registers the fact that they're on the ground. The airplane engine is also off and Liam bustles in the background, opening one of the overhead luggage compartments.

"What's- What's going on?" Louis scrunches up his face as he yawns.

"We have landed in CNP," Harry informs him. "We have an issue."

The blue eyed boy realises what kind of issue it is when he sees Liam pulling out weaponry and body armour. Louis' eyes grow wide and he looks back at Harry in a fret.

"Harry, what the fuck is going on?" He sits up straight and alarmed with Mason still asleep in his arms.

The green eyed man purses his lips, contemplating before blurting out the raw version of what is going on. "There are about twenty people out there with guns pointed directly towards us that will shoot if we do not surrender. Father is one step ahead of me, but I am now one step ahead of him. Do not fret, Blue. Liam and I have a plan."

Louis doesn't mean to offensively scoff but he does and loudly, then he starts to shout in a whisper, avoiding waking Mason up. "Are you fucking mental?! What do you think this is?! A game?!"

"I think this is a potential death sentence as much as you think it is. Do I have a choice? Unfortunately, I do not. I am about to ask you something very demanding. I hope you have taken into consideration my _te sakam_ from earlier on enough that you will say yes."

It takes all of his willpower to not dice Harry up with a very serious scolding slash argument that Louis is more than willing to create if Harry doesn't take a step back and listen to what he is saying. Louis takes in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before deciding to hear the green eyed man out.

"What is this stupid plan?"

Harry gives him a tight smile. "I need you and Mason to go out with Liam and surrender."

Louis chokes on his spit.

"Wait, hear me out," Harry gives him a stern look, aware that their time is running thin. "They will not shoot you. They have only been ordered to shoot me if I ever step foot in Greenland. I am not allowed to be here. It is pretty self explanatory - this is solely my father's realm in his ring. I am prohibited. Those twenty people outside? They do not know you escaped Marken which you will use to your full advantage," Harry grabs his hand, eyes pleading. "Liam will explain that you were a casualty in an unfortunate event. That he had to land the plane under the circumstances of you needing proper medical help immediately, in which hopefully they will provide you the morphine that you want and anti-inflammatory medication to dull any swelling. Follow them, do not say a word. Liam will silently direct you to a man. His name is Fionn. He is the only one here that does not work for my father but for I. Stick with him and he will tell you what to do next."

Louis is barely able to process anything Harry says, but given the look on Liam's face as he waits patiently yet filled with anxiety, it's clear to say that they don't have any other choice. Louis clears his throat, rubbing his temples.

"I feel really woozy," he mumbles out quietly.

"It is the lack of blood," Harry responds, worry evident in his eyes. "Fionn will provide you with something to eat. Please trust him. In a lot of ways, he is my brother."

The blue eyed boy nods, head starting to fall lax and eyes drooping.

"One last thing," Harry tilts his head back up by the chin with his thumb and index finger. "Do not let them see your arm. Do not let them see the tattoo. If they force you to, run. Run and do not stop, okay? It is a terrible idea but I do not know what else to suggest, which is why you must stay with Fionn."

Harry waits for a reply but he never gets one so he sighs, standing up.

"Okay, up you get, little one," Harry gently picks Mason up from Louis' lap. He doesn't wake up thankfully. "Come on you," he pulls at Louis' wrist, dragging him up.

The movement wakes Louis up a bit but he's still majorly lightheaded. Harry turns to Liam, silently asking for help. The pilot nods his head, taking Mason and propping him on his hip, then linking his free arm with Louis' left and giving him support.

"Harry, you know what to do," Liam speaks, leaning Louis against the cabin wall to open the door to the jet.

The emerald eyed man gives a firm nod, standing still and not stepping any further near them, staying completely clear of the door. "If all goes to hell, send father a grenade," Harry dryly jokes.

"Harry?" Louis looks at the curly headed man with fearful ocean eyes. "What's gonna happen to you?"

"Do not worry about me, Blue," Harry gives him a reassuring smile that is wholly faked. He's worrying about his own self, doesn't even know if he will make it out alive. "I will be fine. I promise."

"I don't want us to do this, Harry..." Louis speaks sadly, disheartened.

He should have expected it though, the life threatening obstacles that will continue to risk his life and Mason's as long as he's willing to stay with Harry. However, even if leaving Harry could secure him complete freedom from risking his and Mason's life, Louis doesn't think he ever would go through with it. Not when he's so awfully attached the way he is, so much that he decided to leave the Netherlands with a criminal instead of deciding to go back home and continue a normal life with his very much normal father unlike Harry's. He may as well be called a criminal himself seeing as he's on the run with one.

"But we will," Harry looks him in the eyes from where he's stood. "Because the price of running away with each other is risking our lives. I would say it is worth it, but not until you and Mason are in my arms safely and we are no longer worrying about what may come through a set of doors and hurt us."

"Harry..." Louis can't help but tear up in his vulnerable state. "Please?"

Harry looks down at the floor, swallowing down the lump in his throat from guilt and his own tears that threaten to come out, but he's got a job to do and he never does them wearing emotion. He's like a robot. He has no choice but to be.

He dares to step towards the door that opens, coming to stand before Louis, just about out of view. He slowly brings his hands up to cup Louis' cheek and brings his forehead to rest against his. He ghosts his lips over Louis', the both of them itching to finally connect and feel each other once more before they risk all that they have. Louis never makes the first move though. Harry feels the tear that drops down his face.

He breathes out shakily, unable to hold back his own tears as he whispers against Louis' skin.

_"You committed."_

He finally presses his lips against Louis' in a sad, torn kiss.

_"I am your crime."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :D Sorry if things seem too soon or out of place because all the chapters before I wrote ages ago so for me to all of a sudden start writing on this fic again is a little weird, so oops if the dynamics have changed and it seems too dramatic and so on. It may seem really quick in the fic but I've been writing this for quite some time so it doesn't feel quick for me, you know? :)
> 
> Anways, so much love to you guys, thank you for the lovely comments :D I hope some of you are looking forward to my collab with Larriegal, the first chapter will hopefully be up soon.
> 
> Have a great day/night and have a cookie :)))


	15. x

Hi everyone :) I swear I didn't abandon this, I've just been really caught up mentally and physically. I'm good!! Sorry this isn't the chapter you've been waiting for but I have really good news. I've been finishing the last set of chapters for a bit now and I'm happy to say I only have a few thousands words to finish writing and I want this to be up before the end of this year.

However, I have a question.

So personally, I think this fic is really messy which honestly most writers feel when they've reached the end of a fic. So I want to go through and edit stuff (like spelling errors and any features I don't like which won't affect the plot line) and then post the chapters. However, the idea of deleting this fic and reposting it has been in my mind. If I do that, I want to repost it as one whole thing, or maybe with a couple of parts. Realistically, there's no point in deleting it and then reposting it because it's the same story just majorly updated, but because I'm such a neat freak, I feel like I should.

Idk so I thought I'd ask you guys????? It's not a life changing thing I'm just being extra haha

Anyway, I'll be back soon with the rest of this fic <3

Thanks ever so much .xx


	16. 14

"I fucking hate needles," the blue eyed boy groans, patting his vein.

The pilot gives him a firm look, immediately standing up from his seat once the medic who tended to Louis leaves the room.

"I know Harry did not state it but you are required to run with me," Liam informs him.

"What?" Louis looks towards Mason wrapped up in the coat Liam offered him. "I've got a kid with me, are you mental?"

"No," Liam responds. "I believe _you_ are for protesting given the situation at hand."

"Protesting?" Louis raises an eyebrow, scoffing as he stands up, helping Mason hop out of his seat. "If I was protesting, I would have said that much louder."

"Do not sass me," the pilot stands by the door, looking at Louis expressionless. "We do not have time for foolishness."

"Loosen your top button maybe? Or take the stick out of your ass, either one will do."

Louis places Mason on his hip. He's still droopy and lightheaded and Liam sees it, that's why he approaches the two and takes Mason from him despite Louis' disrespectful comment.

"I see why Harry has a thing for you," Liam responds, looking Louis directly in his eyes. "You have a knack for annoying people. He secretly gets off on that stuff."

The blue eyed boy raises his eyebrows for a second time but remains speechless.

"Come," Liam turns his back on him. "I do not want to be held responsible for your death."

Louis purses his lips and wordlessly follows behind Liam. The blue eyed boy can't stop the feeling of fear swimming around in his gut, and he can't believe that he's found himself here.

Defenseless and in Greenland with a criminal and with his two year old son that he was never meant to keep.

They enter the hallway. Half the lights don't work, the place dark and eerie with the shadows casted. Louis feels the urge to scoff at how film noir the whole scenario is, but before he can, Liam is grabbing him by his wrist with his free hand and they're sprinting through the ghostly hallway.

Louis becomes fainter and dizzier the more he runs. He curses multiple times, pissed that his body would start to fail him again and now. Liam's tight grip stops him from falling back, and the fact that he wants to see Harry again.

Nothing hits them harder than the sound of yelling and the added sound of running feet as they turn the corner. Louis' vision blurs the metal tables in the hallway with the walls and the waiting chairs with the floor. They burst out of the door.

It's like Liam knows the place like the back of his hand because when Louis looks back and finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun from afar, Liam turns the corner and takes them down a maze of hallways.

"Liam!" Louis pants out, stumbling forward and ripping his wrist from Liam's arm. He can't run any further with the way the blackness takes over his vision.

"Get the hell up!"

At this point, Liam's voice sounds distant and distorted and Louis can no longer see what's around him.

Louis feels his body being lifted over Liam's left shoulder, Mason being lifted over the pilot's other shoulder, and the last thing Louis hears and feels before everything goes silent is Liam yelling for Fionn, the loss of Liam's arms around him and the mechanical locking of a door.

Then a gunshot.

Louis' _really_ sick and tired of gunshots.

•

"Mama..."

The blue eyed boy scrunches up his face, bones cracking as he turns over. He blinks his eyes open to Mason, the two year old worried. Louis barely wakes up properly before he's squeezing Mason in a hug, relief swarming his chest.

"Mason!" Louis breathes out, heart pounding fast. "Oh, God, you're okay-"

"Mama, tight."

"Sorry, Mase..."

Louis trails off, realising his surroundings. There's nothing more familiar than the oval windows of an airplane. There's noise coming from the cockpit, commotion that doesn't sound too good. Louis gets up in a haste, drawing Mason up. He stumbles to the cockpit door, light headed from getting up too fast.

"Liam?!" He pounds the metal door repeatedly.

The commotion only gets louder as he is ignored, shouts and yells a clear sign of arguing. Louis bangs the door again, Mason mimicking. The blue eyed parent is no doubt scared and wants to get the hell out of here. All he asks is for the cockpit door to open.

Then it does, slowly, well in his mind. Or maybe he's just not able to process anything as fast as he needs too. How can he? Louis takes one look at the man that has flipped his life over like he's a piece of ham, and the one that has just carried him through the hallways. The horrid reality sets in.

The green eyed man looks defeated, eyes hopeless, as he hovers over Liam. He's crying, doing his bullet wound stitch up routine on the pilot's leg. Louis doesn't think he'll ever get used to seeing so much blood, so he slams the cockpit door shut, pressing his back to it as his heart beats out of his chest. Mason is too young to understand why Louis decides to move and sit them in the middle of the airplane floor and start playing games with him. It's the only thing that takes Louis' mind back home, back to Boston, back to being normal.

Because if it isn't already obvious, he's got _criminal_ written on his own forehead and his life is far from normal. Ever since Harry moved in and changed the bed sheets with Mason's pee, their lives have been _far_ from normal. At the same time, it feels normal. Liam without a scratch would seem too perfect. Louis not being mentally and physically scarred would be too perfect. Louis just accepts it. So when Harry is handling Liam off the jet potentially sending him to his end because he's unfit to fly the plane and there's nothing they can do, Louis just accepts it.

What can he do? Demand a wounded pilot fly them hours to safety? No, so he smiles at Mason through the tears that form in his eyes and acts like nothing's going on, like Harry hasn't just shut the plane door without a pilot on board, like the fact that every second they spend on the ground isn't a second closer to the plane going up in flames. But it is.

Louis stops playing with Mason, hairs on the back of his neck raised by goosebumps as he looks up at Harry who's stood like he's seen a ghost. Harry's clearly trying to form words, any words, that will come out hopeful. Except, there's no hope. He just drops to his knees, hands covering his face and sobs. Louis thought they were much stronger than this. He _believes_ they are much stronger than this. Louis drops Mason's hand from his and crawls closer to Harry.

"Tell me," Louis speaks quietly. "Of all the skills you've acquired living the life you do, that flying a plane is one of them..."

Harry lets out a sad laugh. "You are a comedian, my lovely," Harry draws him in for a hug, stuffing his face into Louis' warm neck. "A comedian and very beautiful."

Louis tangles his fingers in Harry's curls, bringing Harry even closer with his shaking hands. "Are compliments your way of telling me you give up? Because I won't accept that," Louis pulls back, looking Harry in his eyes. "Get up."

Harry tilts his head.

"Yes, get up," Louis does before Harry, pulling the taller man up as best as he can. "Get the hell up! My damn _son_ is on this plane! We _will_ get the hell out of here! How dare you give up now?! How dare you ruin my life, tell me you love me and then give up?!"

"Mama, otay?"

Harry's eyes grow wide and he stands up in alert. He's never seen Louis look the way he does now. Like he could kill a bird if he doesn't get his own way, even though he's terribly squeamish. But Louis' also hurt. So hurt. The way you look when you love someone and that person gives up on you.

Harry's heart skips a beat at that thought. He sees it in Louis' eyes just before the blue eyed boy is truly saying it, cupping his hands on Harry's face and looking him in the eyes sincerely. What he's about to say is all Harry has wanted in his awful life.

"I love you," Louis finally admits. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you, Harry. _I love you_. I wanna be a family with you. I want Mason to call you daddy. Must it have taken two bullets and risking my entire life and Mason's? No, I'm sorry, but- _fuck,_ " Louis pants, embarrassed and out of breath. "My mum's gonna kill me for falling for someone like you... That's if you don't... Kill me first, I mean."

"Hey," Harry speaks, face warm and loving. "Breathe, angel. I think you are in shock."

"Mama, an-gels?"

"No no no, me saying I love you is not me being in shock. It's me having the common sense to tell you the truth before we get blown the fuck up- fuck! Harry, I can't- I can't bre- I can't breathe."

The curly haired man sits them fully on the floor, the blonde two year old crawling up to Louis in worry. Harry doesn't think it's healthy how much Mason worries over Louis.

"Mama, I here for mama," Mason crawls into Louis' lap as Harry rocks the blue eyed parent who's hyperventilating.

"Mase, can you do something for daddy?"

"Yes, daddy," Mason responds, big blue eyes happy.

"I need you to take care of mama, okay? I am going to go into that room just there. Just hug mama and tell mama he is an angel and angels live long. Okay, darling?"

"Yes, dada."

Harry gets up kissing the two on their foreheads. He's by the cockpit door, high hopes and everything when he turns to look back at Mason and Louis. He can't let that go. No. Never.

"Thank you, Mason."

"I lobe you, dada."

No, he can't lose them.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) I'm finally back with the last few chapters (5 in total, including this one). It's a great feeling to finish this because I've NEVER finished a several chaptered fic before and thank you guys for sticking around. This chapter is short as hell but that's because I knew I would be posting the last five chapters around the same time. I hope you enjoy <3


	17. 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go lovelies .xx

Smelling breakfast seems too unreal to Louis. Like, smelling really good breakfast he doesn't doubt will taste delicious. He opens his eyes to the morning sunlight streaming in through the thin white curtains. The blue eyed boy looks at his surroundings. There's an antique clock on the wall quietly ticking, and by the window, there is a dream catcher with feathers. On the window sill are cactuses in plant pots and rings placed on a small plate, one with a red gem - they're Harry's.

Louis leans up on his elbows, scrunching up his face. He takes a better look around the room, at the light blue wallpaper peeling and washed out and the dark brown, rich oak wardrobe that looks like it's been standing for a decade. Louis takes in the wooden bucket on the floor catching the droplets of rain that leak from the ceiling. Sitting up, the bed creaks. It's old and rustic but the linen sheets are freshly washed and the pillows are fluffed.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, noticing that the sound of the rain pouring down outside and hitting the window is blended with the sound of a shower running. Louis looks at the rings on the windowsill again, realises how the pillow beside him his head is not on has been slept on and then looks towards the door where the bathroom is. He finds himself getting out of the old bed and quietly walking towards the bathroom. The door is slightly open and Louis is able to make out a figure. Harry's body, just that bit more naked than the day Louis saw all of his tattoos for the first time.

Other than the moment they shared on the plane to Greenland, Louis' mind is so fuzzy to the point he can't remember anything else. Just the way Harry grabbed him, the way Harry spoke to him and the way Harry looked at him in the mirror. The memory comes back in flashes. Louis looks at Harry's face and remembers the touch of his lips, looks at Harry's hands and remembers the feeling of them. Looks a little bit lower and remembers how his mind was blown.

Louis clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from the sight of Harry in the shower and gives three nimble knocks on the door. Harry turns his head to look at Louis, oblivious before, and offers him a small smile.

"Hi."

"Hi..." Louis steps into the bathroom, never looking at Harry and trying to distract himself by fiddling with the lid of the body cream by the sink. "Where's Mason?"

Louis expects Harry to turn off the water and wrap a towel around his waist but the water keeps running and the green eyed man keeps washing himself. Harry looks very inviting.

"He is downstairs with Dua and Niall," Harry gives him a weird look that Louis misses. "They are making breakfast. I told you when you were awake before."

That gains Louis' attention, the smaller boy looking at the curly haired man. "Awake before? I don't remember being awake."

"Do you not?" Harry pauses. "You were an hour ago. You woke up screaming, I had to hold you down against my will. You frightened Mason so Niall took him."

Louis shakes his head frantically. "I don't remember anything. Are you trying to scare me? Cut the shit."

Harry becomes immediately worried, unable to rip his concerned eyes away from Louis who looks back at him rather scared. "Louis, you woke up an hour ago reminiscing what happened in Greenland. It was truly traumatic, you had me in tears."

"Harry," Louis steps forward, closer to see Harry's eyes clearer. Louis can't see a trace of lying. "I don't remember waking up."

"What is the last thing you remember then?"

"You," Louis tilts his head in confusion. "You and your hands on me and _us_ having, you know..."

"But that is not the last thing that happened before arriving here."

"Where are we?" Louis questions, feeling alienated, feeling like he's been robbed of something, of his memory.

The look on Harry's face changes from worried to shocked. "Yellowknife. Do you truly not remember anything?"

"No."

Harry grows scarily quiet, negative thoughts plaguing his mind. He drops the flannel that's in his hand and runs his fingers through his hair. "So you do not remember telling me you love me?"

Louis chokes on his spit. "W-What? I... I did?" He grows angry. "Harry, stop fucking with me! Stop it! It's not funny!"

The green eyed man's face is plastered with disbelief. Harry turns the shower off, steps out and wraps a towel around his waist. Louis watches him like a hawk, watches how Harry then steps incredibly close to him, large hands cupping his face.

"You are making my heart race, Blue. I am not fucking with you. Please tell me you are with me. Please tell me you are and this is not real."

"What is not real?" Louis' heart beats faster, scared. "What, Harry?"

"Oh, God," Harry pulls the smaller boy into a hug, wet skin wetting Louis' tee. "This is all my fault. I should have never let you go to Monnickendam."

"That was my choice," Louis pulls back, confused. "That's not your fault."

"No," Harry shakes his head. "It is my fault. Louis, you sound like-" Harry cuts himself off, looking away. It's too early in the morning to cry a second time. "You sound like an amnesiac," he whispers. "This has all been too much for you. How did I ever believe you would be okay? You were living a normal life and I tossed you into a traumatic living. I am selfish, for doing that and for wanting you to remember you told me you love me. I have ruined you."

"You haven't ruined me," Louis has the sudden urge to roll his eyes, this whole situation starting to feel stupid.

"You told me I ruined your life just before you told me you love me," Harry disagrees. "To ruin your life means to ruin you."

"I never said anything," Louis swats Harry's hands off his cheeks.

"Yes, Blue, you did... but you think you have not... because you are suffering from amnesia due to the trauma you have experienced."

"What trauma?" Louis tilts his head, awfully confused. "I know I got shot but I'm alive, Mason is alive."

"You almost was _not_ ," Harry pushes further, anything to get Louis to remember all that has happened in the past twenty four hours. "My love, our pilot was shot."

"W-What?"

"Yes," Harry places his hands back on Louis' cheeks. "Liam was shot... Come with me."

Harry grabs Louis' hand, leading them out of the bathroom. Louis takes a seat on the bed, Harry sitting on his knees before him on the floor. The tattooed man sighs.

"Louis, we arrived in Greenland. We were surrounded. I gave you and Liam instructions that put you in the place of risking your's and Mason's life. That is deeply damaging, yet you listened to what I said, given no choice of course. You made it back to me, but Liam was shot in the process, because you fainted, which is _not_ your fault so do not feel guilty. But a situation like that can be terribly traumatic. And so was what happened after."

"What happened after?" Louis speaks quietly, lump in his throat.

"How were we going to get out of there? I was giving up. You told me you love me, that you want to be a family. You gave me a pep talk, equivalent to a rock in the face. You told me to grow balls of solid rock, in a way," Harry lets out a small airy laugh, the small joke a poor attempt to make his own heart feel better.

"So I did...in a way," Harry looks down at Louis' lap, unable to look him in the eyes saying what he does next. "I went to the cockpit, I fiddled around until I found the radio, connected it to Fionn. Fionn - he helped carry you and Mason when Liam was shot. Liam became my liability. He slowed me down, having to locate you two and carry him, but I will never hate him for it. It was not his fault that slowing me down caused what it did."

"What did it cause?"

"So once I had the radio connected to Fionn, I demanded instructions on how to pilot a plane. He was not speaking with an amateur's knowledge. I did not understand a thing. Blue, I could not fly a damn plane," Harry laughs despite the fact he so obviously wants to cry. "Fionn could, had a decent amount of pilot hours. So I demanded he fly us, why else would we be here right now?"

"Then what bad thing happened after?"

"Death," Harry finally looks up. "The time that it took to drag Liam onto the jet, only to cast him off, is the time that it took for us to be attacked and you to be strangled. You have seen a man killed before, but when they are killed by the person you love... _that_ , is one of the most traumatic things you can ever experience," Harry finally finishes, a tear spilling over.

Louis' heart drops to his gut and he sits back from Harry, mouth opening and closing, wordless but with so many things to say. It doesn's sound real, but then it does. The blue eyed boy feels himself tear up.

Of all the things Harry is, a murderer shouldn't be one of them. Harry did what he had to, but he doesn't deserve to have that title. In realising that, Louis moves back closer to Harry, flinging his arms around the curly haired man's neck, breathing heavily.

"Jesus," Louis gets out. "Fucking Christ..."

"I will accept that you do not remember anything," Harry speaks shakily into Louis' hair. "I believe you meant it when you told me you love me, even though you were in shock."

Every part of Louis wants to say it back right now, but every bone in his body holds him back from doing so, along with the whispers in his head. _Murderer_. He doesn't force himself to. When the time is right, he'll be able to.

"What date is it?"

"It is the seventh of April."

Louis pulls back, completely switching his mood, anything to act like a murderer isn't in front of him. It's like he's got multiple personalities because the vibrant Louis sat before Harry is nothing like the mentally bothered one from a mere five seconds ago.

"It's Mason's birthday!" He springs up. "Can we order a cake?"

_Not really, that would attract too much attention_ , but Harry doesn't say anything. He's scared Louis will run away. Who wouldn't?

The green eyed man lets Louis leave the room and puts on some clothes. The more Harry thinks is the more he realises that Louis is in denial, and his complete change of personality is a silent scream for help because he's not okay. He's scarred, and scared, and it's so clear he wants to go back home to Boston. With the guilt that sits heavy on Harry's chest, he whispers a promise to himself.

That even if he can't return to the life he had in Boston with Louis, he will make sure the smaller boy and Mason do.

May it be the last thing he does in his life. He'll die happy. Louis doesn't deserve this.

•

It's silent around the dining table as they all eat breakfast. The only two who aren't bothered about the awkwardness in the air is Louis, who's still thriving off his new personality, and of course Mason. Niall wants to question it, never seeing his solas na gréine act so different, but he doesn't. Who knows if Louis will snap? Dua has less restraint, openly expressing her confusion. Louis ignores her, dumping the remaining egg and bacon on his plate into the bin and going to sit on the porch outside. It hasn't been windy enough to blow the rain onto the porch bench, so Louis takes a seat despite the cold and hums to himself.

"What's going on?"

The blue eyed boy stops humming at the sound of Niall's voice. He lets the blonde take a seat beside him on the swinging bench, but sighs when Niall genuinely expects an answer.

"Everything."

"Talk to me, solas na gréine," Niall swings an arm around his shoulder.

Louis' bottom lip quivers. "I don't know how to be okay with all of this. Niall, I don't know if I want to be a _part_ of this life anymore. I'm just a college student who screwed up and had a kid who's the only person keeping me sane right now," Louis turns to face Niall, desperate and sniffling. "I don't know how to be okay and be on the run at the same time. Do you know what it's like living every day scared that you're gonna get killed?"

"Yes-"

"But with your _son_ facing the same threat?"

Niall grows silent, feeling awful. The wind starts to get stronger, enough to make the two of them feel two times colder than they felt before. Niall starts to feel the rain hit his knees.

"No... Louis, let's go inside."

"I want to stay out here," Louis takes Niall's arm away from him, refusing to move. "Feel the cold, feel something other than fear. God, I don't even sound like me anymore."

"And that's okay," Niall tries. "But you need to accept that life changes, for better or for worse. It just so happens it's for worse, but think about it. You met Harry."

"And he fucked my life up," Louis speaks a little bit louder, anger in his veins, but he calms himself down again. "He's fucked me up, Niall..."

"No, Louis. It was your choice to go to Amsterdam, and it was Dua and I who forced you to go to that damn boat party. We'll all share the blame, so don't only blame Harry. In fact, everything he's done is to save us from our mistakes. Of course, the troubles in his life has intervened with ours, but if it wasn't for him, we'd be in the ground as much as I hate to say that."

Louis stares at the small, poor garden gnome by the plants in the front garden that gets knocked over by the wind. Louis isn't surprised if a storm is coming. "How are you okay with this?"

"I'm not," Niall responds, standing up to lean against the door, away from the rain. "Remember those six months I disappeared for a few years ago? That night after Nina's drink up?"

Louis nods, standing up to join Niall, intrigued.

"I never told you, because I never wanted my solas na gréine to look at me any differently. I hope you don't now. That night, I got myself into some shit. I was blackmailed, took a flight to Oregon, found myself in a drug system around similar kinds of people like the ones that were at the boat party, minus all the death for a while. I did it all under a different name, you know, selling drugs, being in the system."

Niall pauses to sigh.

"I'd kinda grown accustomed to the kind of life I was living, but there was always that hope that I'd get back to you, and I did. In the process, I witnessed more deaths than I could count. I saw the Devil in human flesh. I was on the verge of going insane, mind you, all in six months. But then I told myself, would you love me sane or insane? My answer was that you wouldn't care, so why should I? Why should I care about going insane? And funnily enough, not caring about going insane is what _kept_ me sane."

"Surprisingly, I understand all that you've just said," Louis responds to Niall's explanation.

"Good, because you need to do the same thing. Stop caring. Stop caring about who Harry is and what he's done. Stop caring about all that you've seen. Stop caring about the fact you may die, everyone does eventually. Stop caring about bullshit and care about the things worth caring about. Like what Mason will eat for dinner tonight, what kind of cake we're gonna bake him today. Like the fact that someone loves you. Like the fact that we're here together in one piece. You're a psychology student, you should know how this happiness thing works."

"Happiness," Louis breathes out. "Sounds like a term from a fairytale book."

"Well then I'm living a damn fairytale because I've never been so happy before. Mate, I'm travelling the world!" Niall grins widely. "I get to travel it with you, Mason and Dua... your weirdo boyfriend."

Louis chokes on his spit. "He's not-"

"Who cares? Call him what you want. What matters is we're all together, for better or for worse," Niall starts to push down on the handle to the front door. "And since we're all together, let's all bake a three year old's birthday cake together."

"I mean-"

"Would you rather be out here with the slugs?"

"Not really."

"Then come, you fool."

Niall tugs on Louis' arm. When Louis doesn't budge, Niall scoops him up. Nothing sounds better than the fit of laughter that escapes Louis' mouth. They're okay. Everything is okay.


	18. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another <3

"Mason," Louis frowns, turning around to see the now three year old with a scoop of butter squashed between his little hands. Louis gives Harry the side eye, Harry who stands a few feet away washing the bowl that had the cake mixture in it, a laugh begging to be let out. "Oi, bug off."

Harry finally breaks out laughing, pressing his mouth up against his arm. Louis completely forgets about the butter in Mason's hand.

"Stop laughing at my pain, you ass!" Louis grabs the nearest kitchen cloth, a pissed expression on his face.

"Hey! Language!"

"Oh, I'll show you language!" Louis stretches over to whack him with the cloth. 

There's a moment of silence between them. There's a sparkle in Louis' eyes and a glimmer in Harry's. 

"You have three seconds to run."

"Three seconds my-"

The second Harry jolts forward is when Louis shuts up and runs to the other side of the table. Mason watches them like they're a colourful tv show, blue eyes big and intrigued. 

"You talk too much," Harry playfully insults him, hands on the table, ready to chase Louis in whatever direction the smaller boy chooses to go.

"You don't talk enough," Louis throws back.

"If you are trying to hurt my feelings, Blue, you are doing a terrible job."

"Said the one who's done a terrible job of _watching Mason,_ " Louis raises his voice a bit, a smile betraying him.

"That was a joint task."

"Where was your half of the work?"

"Where was _your_ half?"

"Stop answering my questions with questions."

"I will oblige if you come here and get on your knees for me."

Louis scoffs, throwing the cloth across the table. It pathetically goes a third of the way before hitting the wood. "Get out of here, you immature shit."

"I am going to get you now." 

"Have at it."

The tattooed lad chases after the blue eyed boy, around the table just about twice before Louis is pathetically stubbing his toe on one of the chairs. Harry catches up to him in a split second, grabbing him from behind around the waist and lifting him up. Louis only erupts with laughter, kicking his legs in an attempt to be put down.

"Let me go, you giant!"

"Got you," Harry whispers against Louis' cheek, lips brushing ever so lightly.

Louis' laughing falls into a silence, a shiver running up his spine and back down again.

"I like it when you whisper against my skin," Louis blurts out, cheeks flushing red.

"I know," Harry whispers against his skin again before slowly bringing Louis down enough for the tips of his toes to be on the kitchen floor. "That was not much of a chase, was it, my love? You did not exactly quench my thirst for a run."

"You got the gym for that," Louis replies back cheekily despite the fact he has zero confidence right now, well, in terms of standing up. He feels like complete jelly with the way Harry's speaking to him. "You like to chase after things?" Louis whispers back, a smirk on his face.

"Mhm," Harry mouths against his ear, right hand coming to rest on the inner part of Louis' thigh.

"Chase after this."

Louis rips himself out of Harry's hold, getting a safe enough distance away to put up both his middle fingers. Harry goes from biting his lip to deadpanning Louis because of course Louis would tease him, but then again, should Harry expect any less?

"That is it, you-"

"Oi, lovebirds," Niall interrupts, leaning against the door frame. "Take the sappy shit upstairs, you're mentally scarring Mason."

Louis childishly mimics him before stretching out his bones and yawning. "I think I might just go for a nap. Keep an eye on the cake in the oven please," Louis pats his bare feet against the floor over to Mason, kissing the three year old on his forehead. "See you soon, baby." 

"Where go, mama?"

"To get some rest."

"Okay, mama. See soon," Mason makes grabby hands for Louis' face, grabbing Louis' cheeks and smacking a kiss on his forehead too before Louis leaves the kitchen.

Niall turns to face Harry. "You go on up there as well, idiot number two."

Harry nods his head, a smile on his face. "Thank you. I could do with a little bit of a nap myself after this morning and last night."

"Knock yourself out," Niall responds as Harry approaches Mason.

"Happy birthday, little one. See you in a bit."

"Tank you, dada. See soon."

Harry gives a quick ruffle to his hair before leaving the kitchen to head upstairs. 

•

Stepping into the bedroom, Harry is greeted with Louis standing by the window, looking out afar with a pensive look on his face. Harry slowly shuts the door behind himself, softly approaching Louis, aware that he might be feeling a little bit low.

Harry joins him, elbows resting on the windowsill as he watches the trees sway violently with the aggressive wind and the heavy rain soaking the Earth. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" 

Louis lets out a breath of air, bottom lip quivering. "I remember," he whispers out.

Harry's heart beats fast in his chest. "You remember?"

"I love you... Saying it, I mean."

The green eyed man takes a sharp breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, thanking the Gods. "Y-You do?"

"Yes," Louis breathes out shakily, eyes never reaching Harry. "Y-Yes, I do..."

The smaller boy feels a finger under his chin, lifting his head and turning it to face Harry and look him in the eyes. With the white daylight, Harry's eyes look so intensely green, flecks of deep green against light green evident. Equally, Harry's able to see the ocean pattern in Louis' mesmerising blue ones. Harry is so fond of those eyes, since day one, since they met in their dorm room.

"Will you say it again?"

Louis searches Harry's eyes, receiving nothing but sincerity. "I..." Louis sighs. "Want to, but-"

"Has it all been too quick?" Harry questions quietly, breathing lightly. "Too much?"

Louis looks away feeling terrible inside. "Yeah..."

"That is okay," Harry gives a small pained smile. "I will wait. Do not feel pressured," he leans in to kiss Louis gently on his forehead. "Do you remember anything else?"

"No," Louis closes his eyes, resting his head against Harry's chest. "Only that... and a dreadful feeling of fear and worry, but I don't want to remember everything else," Louis looks up. "I want to stay like this. I want to stay sane."

"You love a criminal," Harry thumbs at Louis' cheek. "Darling, you abandoned sane some time ago."

Louis smiles through a batch of tears that start to well up in his eyes. "Then if I'm going to be insane for eternity, what do insane people do?"

Harry lets out a hearty laugh, own eyes welled up with fresh tears. He cups both of Louis' cheeks. "They do anything and _everything,_ " he searches Louis' eyes. "What is one thing you have always wanted to do but never did because it was too insane?'

"You will laugh at me," Louis looks away, cheeks a blazing red.

"Only if you laugh at yourself," Harry responds, eyes intense and intrigued.

"I will have to show you," Louis steps away.

Harry watches his every move. From opening the window wide until the rustic frame is hitting the brick of the house, to shyly removing his tee and jogging bottoms. Harry tilts his head in confusion, not getting the notion. When Louis steps closer to him and starts to remove Harry's top after silently asking permission, that is when Harry gets it, after looking at the open window again.

"Do you like the thrill of danger?"

Louis avoids Harry's eyes, undoing his belt. His head is lifted up shortly after and his grip on Harry's belt loosens. He feels immensely weak again looking into Harry's eyes. The taller man waits for an answer, not a hint of humour on his face, just sole intrigue and fascination.

"Yes," Louis admits, voice quiet. "Not when it concerns Mason though... but I'm sort of contradicting myself, right? You _are_ danger..." Louis pauses, realisation hitting him. "And I like it..."

Harry brings a hand up to Louis' hair to run his fingers through it, combing back his strands back. "I am not surprised. I always knew there was something special about you."

"Yeah?" Louis breathes out shakily, a smile on his face, sniffling back his tears.

"Yeah," Harry nuzzles his nose with Louis'. "Since I set my eyes on you."

"Better not take them off," Louis steps back slowly, leaning against the open window, nearly hanging out. "I want you to take me here, please."

The tattooed man's lip gets caught between his teeth, a low grunt in his throat sounding. Louis doesn't have to say it twice to get him to move.

•

"Niall?"

The Irish lad looks up from lathering up the birthday cake with icing, licking the little bit of the icing on his finger off. Dua stands at the doorway, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking," she enters the kitchen, taking a seat beside Mason who is far too small for the table and minding his own business using his fingers to destroy the icing on the cake. "This doesn't feel right. This whole situation. Being here. I know I can barely stomach anything, but hear me out. This feels too easy."

"You call getting shot easy, D?" Niall frowns. "Finding out your roommate is a criminal? Leaving your life behind?"

Dua looks away guiltily. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?" Niall questions.

"I meant that I feel like we should be running for our lives right now, not here baking a birthday cake," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before placing her hand on her forehead.

"I feel the same," Niall speaks quietly. "But at least we can stop and do this for Mason. It's not Disneyland but it's _something_."

Dua sighs, turning to face Mason. "How are you, Masie?"

"Bor-ed," Mason kicks his feet as he gets the icing on his fingers all over his mouth. 

"Oi, you little messy thing. D, wipe him," Niall flings a cloth over to Dua, it landing on her head. She rolls her eyes, grabbing the material. 

"Whatever you say."

"Mase, you stick your hands in my cake again and I'm going to tickle you."

"No!" The blonde three year old giggles, the sound muffled as Dua starts to wipe his mouth.

"Niall, it's not your cake."

The comment comes from Louis who walks into the room, an unexplained smile on his face as he grabs a glass and pours himself some water. Niall crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised.

"What are you bloody grinning about?"

Louis zips his mouth shut upon seeing Harry entering the room after him. Harry approaches him, leaning in to peck him on the lips before stealing his glass and gulping down the rest of the water. Niall takes one look at the very similar smile on Harry's face and grimaces.

"You bloody shitheads-"

"Language," Louis gives him a disapproving look despite being prone to _always swearing around Mason._

"Oh, you two _did not._ I thought you said _nap_ not gonna 'av a good ol' shaggi-"

The Irish lad is cut off by Dua's hand covering his mouth. "I think that's enough, Nelly. Let's go," Dua starts to drag him out, sending a wink to Louis before they leave the kitchen.

"I mean, is it that obvious?" Louis furrows his eyebrows.

Harry locks his arms around Louis' waist from behind, resting his chin on top of Louis' head. "It is very obvious."

"Mama, up."

Louis brushes off Harry's hold and approaches Mason, picking him up. "What's up, baby?"

"Dawn Cwoo."

Louis' chest feels fuzzy at the mention of the cartoon. It feels like it's from another life, remembering the moments they would sit together and watch it. 

"Of course," he breathes out shakily, a sense of nothing-has-changed washing over him, even though everything has changed. "Yeah, of course, Mase."

•

"What did you wish for, Masie?" Dua plops down next to the three year old on the floor, grabbing his little hands and playing with them. 

"Mama said no tell," Mason puts a finger to his lips. "No come true."

"Mama is talking nonsense," she picks him up, Mason falling into a fit of giggles. "C'mon, little you. It's time for bed. I believe we'll be up bright and early tomorrow morning ready to leave here. You need all the sleep, little one," she ruffles his hair.

"No s'eep!" Mason kicks his legs to the point Dua has to put him down.

"Mason, that's not nice," Louis frowns, walking into the living room. "Come, bedtime."

"Mama, I no s'eep yet," Mason pouts, big blue eyes tearing up. "Daddy said I p'ay now."

Louis deadpans the wall, then Harry as he waltzes into the room, only clad in a pair of underwear, tattoos on show. 

"Harry, he can call you whatever he wants but I set the rules. You tell him he can play again this late and I will kick you in the shin," Louis warns the taller lad.

"Okay," Harry puts up his hands in surrender immediately, not ready to enter a battleground with Louis. "Bedtime it is, Mase," the green eyed man grins, hands out ready to catch him. 

Louis doesn't intervene with the chase that begins between the two, Mason waddling around and giggling with a giant Harry speeding after him.

"I'm going to make a late night cuppa," Louis informs Dua. "Do you want one?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow morning then. Goodnight." 

He gives her a hug before going into the kitchen. He boils the kettle, chucks a tea bag in a cup and pours himself a cup of tea. After adding some milk and a little bit of sugar, he heads upstairs.

Once his cup of tea is on the bedside table, he wastes no time in getting into bed. The sheets are soft and brand new as if the house was set up for their arrival. Louis wouldn't be surprised if Harry had this house set up since day one. Louis closes his eyes and changes his thoughts. 

When he thinks of Harry, he wants to think of that addictive smile, those comforting arms and his kind presence, not the fact he's come from a world of drugs, criminals and prostitution. It hurts Louis, truthfully. The large part of him that is _attached_ to Harry is deeply hurt that he has gone through what he has gone through. 

The blue eyed boy doesn't mean to let the thoughts take over, but they do, and he starts to tear up. He knows his tea is going to end up going cold, but that is the last thing on his mind. All he can think about is Harry and his past. Part of Louis wishes Harry's past didn't exist, but when he truly thinks about it, they would have never met.

And the idea of never meeting is rather painful. If Harry didn't live the life he was living, he would never have been in Boston, or at Trinity College and definitely would not have been Louis' new dorm room partner. He wouldn't be in Louis' life. Louis wishing Harry's past to never have existed is selfish because then Harry wouldn't be in Mason's life either, and Mason's been attached since day one.

Louis turns onto his back, letting his tears trickle down from the sides of his eyes. He doesn't know if the majority of his tears are because of what Harry has had to go through or what it is costing them all, but whatever the cause of the tears, they don't stop falling.

Harry walks in on the tears, Mason fast asleep in his arms. Harry looks torn. It's incredibly hard to watch Louis cry, especially since Harry's so foolishly gone for him.

The curly headed lad places Mason in the middle of the bed and tucks him in, then walks to the other side of the bed to sit down beside Louis. Harry gives him a sad sympathetic smile, grabbing his hand to offer comfort.

"Why do you cry, Blue?"

"What happens next?" Louis gets out, eyes still on the ceiling. "If your dad finds us?"

Harry sighs, looking down.

"God willing he dies before he can," he whispers out, lump in his throat. "But if he does, if he holds a prison sentence against me or a gun to my head, you must go without me."

Harry feels guilty saying it, picturing what Louis' reaction will be. Actually seeing the flicker of pain consume Louis' face just before the anger does is more painful than picturing it, but it doesn't change his mind.

"You must take my love. Take it all. The chances are we will never see each other again, and do not take your eyes off Mason."

Louis sits up, silent like the night, but then his lips part and Harry knows he's going to get it.

"How can you _run away_ with me and then tell me you won't go any further?! How fucking _dare_ you?!"

"I would like it if you did not shout," Harry indirectly pleads him, eyes anywhere but Louis'.

Louis goes to shout even more, yell everything that's dying to come out of his mouth right now, but he doesn't. "Sure," he blinks, tears dropping. "Whatever _you_  want."

"No," Harry looks him in the eyes, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "I did not mean it like that. I meant that Mason is asleep, and you do not need to get your point across by shouting."

Louis nods his head, tears dropping. "Yeah, that's what you meant."

"Louis, I promise you," Harry grabs his cheeks, looking him in the eyes. "This is not about me. I love you and everything I have done has been for you. Do not let a little comment steer that truth away from you."

Louis gives a smile, so forced Harry knows his next words won't be anything nice.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Get out."

The green eyed man finds himself blinking multiple times, trying to clear his sight from the tears that blur it. He doesn't try to mend anything between Louis, dropping his head in shame and slowly getting up. It would be best if they spent the night apart. Harry should be aware that the smallest of things could upset Louis right now because he's fine, Louis is truly fine, but then he's not, and Harry's to blame. _Harry_ had to go and fall in love with him. _Harry_ is the one who can't let him go, and simply, _Harry_  is the one who made Louis fall terribly right back for him, with his idiot smile and his stupid face. 

If Harry wasn't in love with him, Louis wouldn't have found it so hard to think about leaving him. Louis would be gone by now, safe and not crying because of a guy. It was so much easier with girls. Louis hates himself for thinking that.

Harry makes it to the door and stops. He wants to turn back and go to Mason and leave a kiss on his forehead, but it would be stupid to turn back, so he proceeds to leave, never looking back and closing the door behind him. 

He lays on the couch downstairs, eyes open. The hours go past and he never falls asleep. The only time he does, about three in the morning, is when Mason is walking down the stairs one foot at a time, half asleep, and doesn't close his eyes again until he's cuddled up next to Harry on the couch.

It's not Louis' presence, but it's Mason's and it provides the same amount of comfort and love for Harry to finally shut his eyes and fall asleep.


	19. 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. wow :) And the next update will be the last of this entire fic, it will be the Epilogue. Wow, it's crazy to say I've finished a chaptered fic haha.

The morning is bitter. Not because it's still grey outside and the temperature is still rather cold for spring, but because Louis comes downstairs, last night still fresh in his mind. He doesn't mutter a word to Harry who lays awake on the couch by a sleeping Mason. Louis silently throws on the nearest coat he can find. With the way it fits, he knows it's Dua's. Then he leaves the house without a single word on where he's going.

Harry's eyes widen in alarm. It's not safe for Louis to be out there on his own, or to be out there at all given that they're on the run. The tattooed man gets up in a haste, careful not to wake Mason up, and rushes to find and put on his shoes and his coat. Then he realises he can't leave Mason downstairs alone by himself and silently curses before sprinting up the stairs two steps at a time. He wakes Dua up, figuring Niall will be harder to wake, and doesn't tell her anything else but to look after Mason before he gets out of the house.

Harry's hit with the cold air and shivers. He looks around, searching for Louis, but his figure doesn't come into view. However, there are footsteps in the mud surrounding the isolated house leading downhill into the field. There's a path down there that leads into the city. Terrible move on Louis' behalf, to go into a city full of people that could be linked to Harry's dad, Harry thinks. Then again, that's just his paranoia messing with him. They came to Yellowknife because it's the safest place they're going to get, but Harry doesn't want to risk it, so he wastes no time in following the footsteps.

The green eyed man makes it downhill and just about catches Louis' small figure disappearing into the crowds of people heading to work or school. The moment he loses sight of Louis again his heart beats out of his chest, scared. He barges through the crowd, muttering as many sorrys as he can get out whilst undergoing the worst kind of fear. And get this, Harry has felt fear, but nothing like this. He's never felt the kind of fear you feel because the person you love may be in danger. Now that's a whole other type of fear compared to what Harry's used to. It's just the price he has to pay for falling in love with Louis.

Harry breaks through the crowd to face the town bar, isn't surprised to see Louis in there if the stories of his past are anything true. Harry frowns. Louis shouldn't have to be in a bar in order to drown the pain that Harry caused last night. Harry makes his way in and stands there, watching Louis order himself a drink this early in the morning, blending in with the all-day-long drunks who are scattered around the bar, minding their own business. Harry swallows down the lump in his throat, daring to take a few steps nearer to Louis. He does it quietly, and the only time Louis realises Harry's followed him is when the taller man sits down on the bar stool next to him.

Louis doesn't even look at him, which breaks Harry's heart a thousand times more. He just grabs the glass of beer the bartender serves him and downs a third of the cup, placing it on the counter and contemplating. Harry clears his throat, turning his body to face Louis' a little, and reaches out to the glass of beer to slide it away from him. 

"Isn't it enough to admit sometime you're gonna give up? Now you take my beer."

Harry looks down at his clasped hands, curls dropping in front of his face. He runs his hand back through his hair, acts like he isn't about to cry this early in the morning. 

"Stop, Louis," Harry looks at him, eyes pleading. "I just want to spend my time with you in peace. I do not like this."

"Well, you caused it."

"You tend to blame people a lot," Harry responds, clearly hurt. "If I have caused it and everything else then go. Get up, take Mason and leave me. If I have caused it then you do not need me. So get up. Go."

A silence falls between them, long enough that it messes with Harry's head, makes him feel so anxious he feels sick. Then Louis grabs back his glass of beer, downing the rest, and on placing the glass back on the counter, does the one thing that causes Harry to start to cry. He gets up, back to Harry, and starts to walk away.

The thing is, Harry can't let him go. He refuses to, to put it simply, which is why he grabs Louis by the wrist and pulls him back.

"Let me go, Harry." 

Louis tries to push his hand off but Harry only grips on tighter, gaining the attention of the bartender. Harry doesn't exactly want any trouble, so he lets Louis' arm go, lets him walk out the bar then follows him. Harry doesn't think twice before he's pinning Louis against the brick wall in a nearby alleyway, the smaller boy's arms above his head. Louis' eyes are wide, not expecting Harry to do that. 

"For fucks sake, you told me to go so let me-"

It's just so that the only way to get Louis to settle down and finally give it up is the touch of Harry's lips, clasping his slowly and apologetically. Harry lets go of Louis' wrists, hands falling to wrap around his waist. Louis' hands fall between their chests just resting there, letting Harry pull him in. Harry's got him on the tips of his toes and all putty in his hands, and when they pull apart, Louis is glad Harry is holding him because he doesn't think he's able to hold himself up with the fluttering feeling in his stomach that is making him weak.

"I told you to go," Harry whispers against his mouth. "But you know I would never let you leave."

Louis breathes in the fresh morning air, lungs filling up and head so much clearer than it was before. "Yeah, 'cause you're a flipping leech..." Louis lightly jokes, finally coming to look Harry in the eyes. "I was just testing you."

"Do not lie to me, Blue," Harry thumbs at the smaller boy's cheeks. "You were going to leave me."

"Yes," Louis admits. "But I would have been halfway up the road and I would have turned right back around. Pinning me up against the wall is a bit much."

"I quite like pinning you," Harry cheekily smiles.

"Gag," Louis pushes at his chest, slipping out from between Harry and the wall. "Who let you out of the mental asylum?"

"Hey, sue me for liking the feeling of having complete power - without doing crime related things of course."

"Oh," Louis raises his eyebrows, a smile playing on his face. "So stealing my heart and making me needy like Mason isn't a crime? You've downgraded my mental age to three years old..." Louis trails off, feeling embarrassed to admit what he was just about to admit.

"What?" Harry questions, waiting for Louis to continue.

"Nothing, just... I'm dependent on you, Harry. I'm so damn dependent on you. I've put my life in your hands, my trust in you, my...  _love_ in you," Louis looks down shyly, twiddling his fingers. "So when you said that I would have to leave you and run if your dad ever finds us, you can only imagine how that made me feel inside. That is like telling Mason to run away and leave me. He would never do that because he loves me... and I love you."

"You do?" Harry blinks through the happy tears in his eyes, grabbing Louis' hands.

"Yeah," Louis lets out a little laugh, feeling silly for getting emotional over saying three plain words.

"Say it again, Blue."

"I love you." 

"I love you too," Harry cups his cheeks. "Again. Say it again."

"Hold your horses, mate," Louis chuckles, grabbing one of Harry's hands and holding it. "I love you. Now let's get going. Of course _you_ would choose an alleyway of all places," he starts to drag Harry out of the alleyway, walking onto the crowded road.

"Okay, it has been a minute. Say it again," Harry purposely starts to annoy Louis as they walk through the crowds for the time it takes to get on the outskirts of town.

"You're going to wring that word dry like a cloth. Ain't those words meant to be special?" 

"They are," Harry grins. "And so is whatever time we have together so I want you to keep saying it."

Louis shakes his head, silently accepting Harry for all his specialness. "Are all Macedonians like this?"

"Hey," Harry frowns. Really, he just looks like a big child. "Do not stereotype us, Blue. However, we do love romance."

"You call nagging me romance? I call it annoying," Louis rolls his eyes as they approach the outskirts and start walking uphill to the house, but before they go any further, Harry pulls them to a stop, turning Louis to face him. 

"I want to apologise... for last night. I know that you have not taken all that has happened easy, and I should be more aware and more sensitive. So I apologise, for not being aware enough."

"Hey, you _have_ been aware enough," Louis places a hand on Harry's cheek, the curly headed lad closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. "Thank you. You're so kind, and I'm very grateful to have you despite everything. Now, I kinda miss Mason so let's go, you nag." 

Louis pinches Harry's cheek and proceeds to walk uphill but ends up being picked up and tossed over the taller man's shoulder.

"Put me down, for God's sake."

"No," Harry responds.

Louis doesn't even try to fight him, crossing his arms behind Harry's back as the tattooed lad starts to walk uphill.

"Harry, where do we go next?"

Louis feels Harry tense up, not enough to say that he's scared but enough to say that he's worried.

"In all honesty, I do not know. Please do not fret, I will figure something out given a day or two. I would never intentionally put you and Mason in harm's way, I will figure something out even if-"

"Hey," Louis pushes himself back and wraps his legs around Harry's waist, the taller man coming to a stop just outside the house. "I trust you, shithead. _You_ stop fretting."

"I apologise, my love," Harry gives a sheepish smile. "I cannot help but worry."

"Well don't," Louis unwraps his legs, feet finally touching the ground. "Worrying too much is not healthy. Come."

Louis intertwines his fingers with Harry's and starts to pull him to the front door. He pulls down the handle, about to open the door before Harry is pulling him back and giving him a sloppy kiss. Louis rolls his eyes when Harry pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Do you mind?" Louis glares but isn't able to hold it long enough, a smile breaking through. "None of that inside, yeah? Mason is still too young. So is Niall."

Harry raises his eyebrows, a small airy laugh coming out as Louis opens the door and steps inside.

Then all the air leaves Harry's lungs. The coldest shiver attacks his spine violently, leaving him almost flinching. He feels his heart drop to his stomach as Louis steps back against him, shaking in fear. All of Harry's words go down the drain, and the whole point of coming to Yellowknife is swallowed up whole.

"F-Father?"

"Son," the man grins. "Do not act surprised to see me. Come in."

The only reason why Harry shuts the door behind himself is because of the loaded guns in each of his father's hands, one pointed at Niall's temple, the other at Dua's. Mason... Mason is nowhere to be seen, and right now, all that's on Harry's mind is finding Mason and taking him away from the man stood before them. But he knows one wrong move and Louis' best mates are gone. His father is true to his words and actions.

"I am not going to kill you, son," he gives Harry a twisted smile. "I want a confession."

"Prison it is?" Harry scoffs, stepping in front of Louis. He isn't scared of his own blood, just the loaded guns pointed at Dua and Niall that could change direction at any given moment, and if it's towards Louis, it's going to go through Harry first.

"Life, until I give a damn to get you out. Do not test my patience."

"Can you get any more spiteful?" Harry questions, face firm.

"You," his father ignores him, addressing Louis. "Get out."

Louis listens, does what he's told because he knows he's screwed, even through the shock, even though Harry grabs his wrist and tries to keep him back. Louis should scream, scream for Mason, but he doesn't, only steps out, eyes on the ground.

"You are the kid my son has fallen for? Pathetic. Here is a real gut twist, son," the man smirks, eyes peering into Harry's. "He is going to confess to."

Harry launches forward.

"Harry, no!" Louis holds him back. 

"He has not done a thing!" Harry spits.

"You made the wrong mistake doing what you did! Son," he laughs psychotically, like he escaped a mental hospital. "What better way to pay for it? I kill his friends and you watch him suffer, or you both go to prison. Separate ones. Pick, Charis! Time is not of virtue!"

Harry doesn't even realise that his cheeks are hot with tears, merely realises that this is it, that there is nothing in his human nature he can do to make sure everyone gets out safely. He doesn't know where he screwed up along the way, doesn't know if it was in Greenland or the Netherlands or for existing, but he's written a death sentence for someone in this room, whoever it may be. 

In the name of love, he gets down on his knees, eyes to the ground as he breaks out with tears. If that death sentence wasn't written for him, now it is. He'd choose Dua's, Niall's, Mason's and Louis' life over his own any day. It seems like Louis has the same notion, even through knowing this is the end, because he gets down on his knees beside Harry, smaller hand coming to link with the green eyed man's larger one. Not a word leaves his mouth.

"M-Mama?"

Louis almost breaks his neck looking up, Mason running into his arms. 

"Mama no cry. P'ease no cry."

The horrified look on Harry's father's face is picture perfect.

"F-Father, please let him go," Harry pleads, continuing to look at the floor, body overwhelmed with tears.

"Do not make me vex, son."

"P-Please, he has got a kid-"

"Shut your damn mouth, child!" 

There's a bullet in the wall quicker than anyone can register it, Mason screaming in fear at the piercing sound.

_"Father, please!"_

_"CHARIS!"_

Maybe it is a miracle, or Harry's just got a knack for disobeying his father and making him mad, but the man becomes so enraged that he loses all control for a split second. That split second costs him majorly, because when he slams the gun he had held to Dua's head against the wall, the metal flies off it straight in Louis' direction, the gun sliding across the dark brown polished floor. It feels like an eternity before it's in Louis' violently shaking hand, like the whole thing happens in complete slow motion, everyone holding their breath. 

The thing is, Louis' never held a gun before, but he knows how to load one, it really isn't rocket science, and finds himself doing it. He doesn't know _what_ he's doing. All he knows is that his bones are moving, ever so slowly, and in the moment that it takes him to load the gun, Harry's father is caught off guard in shock leaving an open door for Dua to whack the last gun out of his hand. He tackles her for all but a second before Niall is sending him straight through the glass of the coffee table. Mason's cries are ear-splitting. Truthfully, Harry doesn't know what is going on anymore, neither does Louis.

All Louis knows is that his shaking hand is pointing the loaded gun to the coffee table, and so is Dua's with the gun in her hand, but they're both holding weapons up for different reasons.

"Rookie error for a mob boss," Louis whispers out, finger on the trigger.

"Give me the gun, Louis," Harry urges him, lump in his throat.

But Louis doesn't listen, like always. Nothing's changed.

"Give me the gun!"

But his finger only clutches the trigger tighter.

_"Louis, give me the-"_

Dua's jaw drops. Niall's eyes freeze wide open. Harry loses all sense of feeling. There's a silence, strange and unknown. Laced with a bit of relief, a little bit of disbelief. It's like they've felt the Earth move, or just stepped outside a basement after a night of a deadly hurricane.

No one says a thing. 

Louis drops the gun to the ground. Then grabs a crying Mason, hiding the three year old's face in his chest as he slumps back. He feels bile at the back of his throat, doesn't think he can stomach what he's just done.

"Get in the car now," Harry breaks the silence, looking at Dua and Niall. "Start it up! Get in the passenger seats! _Go!_ "

Harry finally takes the gun, not saying a word further as he moves throughout the house, upstairs and downstairs, packing anything and everything, because Lord knows when they will have somewhere to sleep after leaving here, or something to eat. It's five dreadful minutes before Harry returns to Louis, a sweaty mess, taking Mason from Louis' hold and pulling the blue eyed parent up. 

"Remember, Blue. We are already insane," Harry pants out, kissing Louis on the forehead. "Go, my love. Get in the car. Let me say goodbye."

"I'm..." Louis finally breaks, sobs shaking his body aggressively, hands gripping onto Harry's shirt. "I-I'm s-so s-sor-ry!"

"Do not apologise. Save your breath, lovely. Go."

Louis nods his head frantically, turning around and hurrying to the car. Harry approaches his dad, holding Mason's face to his chest. It's a sad sight, but Harry doesn't feel sad. Not one bit. He goes to say goodbye for the sake of having morals but decides his father doesn't deserve it. _Not one bit._ So with one final glance, he turns around and gets the hell out of there, no intention of coming back.

Niall stands outside the car, a hand on the roof and an anxiety-filled expression on his face. But despite it all, Niall knows everything is for the best. Louis will accept that too, it will just take a lot longer than a few minutes, much longer than a few days. Niall reaches for Mason as soon as Harry approaches, taking the three year old from him.

Harry doesn't utter a single word, about to go to his side of the car and get in, but Niall grabs him by the arm. 

"Hey. Even after this, I wouldn't want anyone else to love Louis, okay? I'm saying this now because I don't know what day will be our last in our lives. I don't think anyone else could have the same look in their eyes as you do when you look at him. Life is _too_ short. That was just proven," Niall claps a hand on Harry's shoulder, no part of him regretting what he says next. "Marry him. Be kids for once. You have my permission."

"Yeah?" Harry looks at Niall hopefully, a smile appearing on his face.

"Yeah."

Harry pulls him in for a hug, Mason in between them, just as the sound of sirens are heard from afar. Harry rolls his eyes. "This place is too quick for my liking."

"You idiot, there are houses just up behind those trees. Someone would have heard."

"True. Get in," Harry lightly shoves him. "Go."

Harry passes Niall their belongings and shuts the door for him. The green eyed man turns his back to the car, pulling out his phone and dialling the only other person apart from Louis and Mason he can call family. The call is picked up on the third ring.

"A Payne always lives long, often in the ass."

"I am in misery on a hospital bed, idiot, thanks to your father who found me passing out - dying rather - in Greenland. I will never forgive you for this but I will never hate you."

"I love you too. One more favour?"

" _Yes,_ I will communicate with Yellowknife and provide you their best pilot. Give me one hour. Get off the damn phone so I can call in."

"You have read my mind. Thank you."

"Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodby-"

Harry shakes his head when the line goes dead midway his farewell, slipping his phone back into his pocket and smiling to himself. He takes one last look at the house, inhaling deeply and breathing out before getting into the car.

He does one of the two things he should be doing right now. He turns in his seat to face Louis.

"I do not have a ring and I am not on my knees but I am in front of your son and your best mates and that is more than enough."

Louis tilts his head to the side in confusion, wiping the tears from his face. He looks at Dua whose as clueless as she can get, then at Niall who sits with a smirk on his face. "W-What?"

Harry puts his foot on the pedal, looking at Louis in the mirror.

"Marry me?"

Louis chokes on his spit.

"Oh, God, I-" Louis pauses, taking one last look at the house, a sore reminder that he could wake up tomorrow and it could be his last day. "O-Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST

"Where to next?" Harry questions, looking at the map in his hand, and then at the list of places they've already gone in his journal on the table.

"I was thinking maybe we could stop running now?" Louis suggests, staring into Harry's his eyes. "Mason is going to start school soon. It's been two years. The case is gone cold."

"That does not mean we are safe," Harry sighs, a guilty look on his face. He knows how badly Louis wants to just settle down.

"Mama, we go to 'waii," Mason turns in Harry's lap to face him. "Daddy, mama says 'waii."

Louis folds his arms, leaning back in his chair and contemplating. Harry waits patiently for him to spill his thoughts, brushing Mason's hair back as he does.

"I always wondered why Mason started to call you that..." he trails off, in a daze. " _Daddy,_ even though he barely knew you... I guess he already saw it coming, you know? Us, together, married. Our kid's a freaking psychic."

"He knew that I would get down on my knees for you," Harry smirks, leaning back and pulling Mason against his chest. "Did you not, Mase?"

"Oi, keep it PG, you bloody turd," Louis glares, picking up the menu before him. "And you never actually did."

There's a suspicious moment of silence. Louis peaks his head over the menu, giving Harry a look. "What are you-"

"Give me your ring."

"What?"

"Just give it, and play along."  
  
Louis raises his eyebrows, silently judging his husband. He slips off his wedding ring, rolling it to Harry. He watches the man slip it into his pocket.

"With the power invested in me by Mason, I now declare you and I divorced."

"Harry, what-"

"Shh, read the menu," Harry interrupts him, getting out of his seat and placing Mason on his chair instead.

"Okay, okay," Louis gives in, rolling his eyes and pretending to read the menu. He knows exactly what Harry's going to do. "Just so we're clear, I think you're craz-"

Then Harry's getting down on his one knee, pulling out the ring, drawing the attention from the people around them and making a big scene.

"Blue, when we first met in that dorm room, I knew I would be keeping you in some way. Not as an acquaintance, not as the person I shared a room with in college, but as the person I love. I am hoping that you will also accept me keeping you as the person I shall marry, as my husband. Louis Tomlinson, will you marry me?"

Louis has the killing urge to roll his eyes so hard that he gets a headache but instead plays on, covering his mouth with his hands in fake shock. He even wells up fake tears in his eyes.

"Mama, don't cry," Mason gets up, patting his little Doc Martens over to Louis and wiping the fake tears from his face.

"Oh, my," Louis finally responds to Harry who looks up at him with sparkles in those green eyes. "Yes. Yes! YES!"

"Yes?"

"Yes, you idiot!" 

Harry immediately slips the ring onto Louis' finger, the entire café erupting with claps and cheers. The curly headed lad grabs him by the back of the neck, pressing his lips against his. Louis comes to stand, Harry too, Mason by their side and hugging both their legs. Harry brings his hands to rest on Louis' lower back pulling him in, and Louis' hands trail up Harry's chest to the back of his neck, playing with the baby strands of hair there.

It isn't long before Louis' bringing his legs up to wrap around Harry's waist, the tattooed man breaking their kiss to hold him tightly in a hug.

"I love you," Harry mumbles into his neck.

"I love you too," Louis smiles, dropping his legs and pressing his head under Harry's chin and hiding his face. "Which is why I tolerate this," Louis turns to face the rest of the café. "Thank you, thank you." He turns to whisper in Harry's ear. "When we get out of here, you're toast."

"Toast me all you want," Harry pulls back, pecking Louis on his cheek before taking a seat. "What do you want to order?"

"A less crazy husband," Louis responds, sitting down and placing Mason on the seat beside him. "Kidding, a fry up," he checks the menu once more to be sure. Then a question floods his mind. "I never asked, but what do you think happened to your dad's business?"

"I think it fell," Harry smiles, not an ounce of regret or sadness on his face. "Like the great empire of Macedonia."

Louis smiles, feeling elated that Harry's been freed from his dad's work and it no longer exists and isn't able to claim him back. Louis takes in a deep breath, facing Mason.

"What do you think Mase? Hawaii or here?"

The five year old contemplates, little hand on his chin.

"Here! Stay with Nelly and Dua!"

"Is that what you want, darling?" Harry questions.

Mason nods his head frantically. Harry looks at Louis.

"How about a house in the countryside?"

"White, dark brown accents," Louis immediately replies without a second thought.

"Look at you go, you special little thing. And what do you think Mase?"

Mason pauses, little eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. "Gween and b'ue. Just like daddy's and mama's eyes."

A blush colours Louis' cheeks and similarly Harry's as they come to look each other in the eyes.

"I agree with Mason," Harry states, a little humoured smile playing on his lips.

"God no, what an awful colour combination. You can't find a house with such an awful combination on the outside."

"Hey! 'Tis not an awful combination. If you truly believe that, never look at me again."

Louis rolls his eyes. "I'm only playing. But definitely white."

"I think blue and green," Harry finalises. "We should absolutely listen to Mason. If it was not for Mason, you would have never had that dorm room. Someone else would have had it and I would never have crossed your path. I think Mason deserves this, my husband."

Louis is in the right mind to exaggeratedly roll his eyes again but saves it. If he rolls his eyes at every cheesy, cliché thing Harry says, they'll be out their sockets.

"Mama?"

"Yes baby?"

"Love you. Dada?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Love you. Mama, dada?"

"Yes, Mase," they both say, Louis rolling his eyes because it's Mason, and only Mason is worthy of his eye roll.

"Changed my mind. Let's go 'waii."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE NEXT PART .XX


	21. <3

HI <3

I WANT TO SAY A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO'S READ THIS <333

I'm so proud that I've completed a fic, even though this is a short one, and I'm so glad I could write this for you guys. Writing isn't just a hobby, it's a job, and right now this year I'm working on a project to actually write and publish a legit book. I am so thankful that I've been able to write for you guys and practice writing here.

DON'T FRET, I'M STILL AROUND!! I'm still working on ASAYA with Larriegal and will be posting one shots every here and there and I have yet to return to Whitewater if I can salvage that. I am excited for it!! 

PLEASE STAY POSITIVE, HAVE A LOVELY NEW YEAR AND I LOVE YOU ALL <3

.xoxo

NoShitSherlock


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